Given
by TheGirlWithFarTooManyIdeas
Summary: People always rant about how awesome it would be to be a Potter. Well, not me. For me, being a Potter meant constant fear and pain, having the whole world placed on your shoulders, being hated and feared because some asshole couldn't kill you as a baby, and it meant being a sacrificial lamb for a hateful world. But with what I know, can I change the rules? Dark self insert.
1. Chapter 1

**Given**

**Prologue: Life, Love and Anger**

Tell me if you've heard this story.

There was once a beautiful woman and her beloved husband. They were kind and compassionate people, who believed in justice and stood up for the weak. Beloved by many, they worked under the tutelage of one of the greatest wizards ever known. Bastions of the light.

However, they became the target of a wicked dark sorcerer who wanted to claim the entire world as his. They fought bravely, but in time they were betrayed by one they believed to be one of their closest friends. Still, they sacrificed their lives for the sake of their children, and it was this sacrifice that destroyed the evil that had been believed to be invincible.

Pretty cut and dry, right? You've probably heard it many times. I had, certainly. And while, as most things, it was a bit more complicated then that, the heart of the story was true. In a twisted way, I think it's supposed to be inspiring. Despite dying at an early age over something as petty as the supposed purity of blood, the man and woman had shown courage and love that all should stride to possess.

What these tales tend not to mention is what happens afterwards. Even if there is another story, the inbetween gets left out – ever noticed that? They never really talk about what happened to the kids, the friends, and the world after the death.

I suppose when you're telling the story to your kids, you don't want to tell them that things didn't really change despite the weight of the two brave heroes and their deaths. At least, things didn't change immediately. You definitely don't want to tell them the 'greatest wizard' isn't all that great, the mistakes made in the aftermath, etc.

Truth can hurt. Sometimes it's better not to tell everything straight, but I'm going to anyway. Party its because I can't see myself coping any other way, but it's also because I think people need to take it straight if they're ever going to change for the better...for good.

My name is Cassie Lily Potter. This is the story of me and my brother.

**-Given-**

People always talked about how wonderful it would be to wake up after dying in your favourite story.

To me, it was a particularly sick joke.

I was born in the year 1978. From all accounts that I can remember, it was an easy birth. It all happened in the safety of St Mugos; the father was delighted (though he had been hoping for a boy), the godfather was laughing and wanted to hold me next, the mother sweaty and exhausted.

My first memories were blurry and unclear; I could hear voices but not make out their exact words. While you might find this odd, I assure you it's not normal for wizard children either.

It's strange that I was fully conscious and aware of my surroundings during my infancy.

It was because I could still remember another life. A life before witches and dragons and monsters, a life before politics and dementors and dark lords. A life where the entire world that now surrounded me had just been a bunch of books sitting on my desk at home.

A book series, a movie series, a video game series, not to mention all the fan stories, something that was discussed, gushed over and derided in equal measure.

It was frightening, at first – in retrospect, I was glad that I was a baby in those moments. No one blinked an eye over a newborn crying often and frequently. I didn't understand what had happened to me.

My last clear memory was the accident I had been in. A derailed train, while I was making a rudimentary journey from the library to my home. I never found out what caused it. The lights flickering, everyone screaming and trying to hold onto one another as we careened off the tracks and into the side tunnel.

The worst part of that memory was the moment when I died – crushed under thousands of tons of rock and steel.

The next time someone laughs about my claustrophobia, I'll be putting that memory in a pensive and forcing them to experience it. See if they'd still be laughing.

After the death – after being crushed, torn away from my body – everything was dark. I hung in blackness, not knowing when or where or why but still aware of my existence. Just thinking about that void gave me chills. Something had stopped me from passing on; whatever it was I couldn't imagine. All I could see was the nothingness.

Then...after what felt like an eternity...suddenly there was warmth. Security. Laughter all around me.

I was ripped out of the darkness, abruptly thrust back into the world. I cried in confusion and bewilderment and all those mixed emotions I had felt after my death when I realized I was being cradled by someone, someone who was cooing and whispering to me.

It was frightening to realize that I couldn't really _stop _crying. I was too young to have much power of my body's impulses. Going from being free-walking and atonomous to helpless in a blink didn't give me much incentive to try and force the issue either. So on instinct I snuggled close to the person holding me, trying to bury my head in her shoulder.

She had lovely soft red hair. Maybe that should have been a clue, but I was too dazed and lost in my new infancy to really take it in.

Months past.

Terrifying, humiliating months.

Being an infant completely dependant on the parents, unable to walk, talk or even go to the bathroom on my own power was devastating, especially since I possessed all the memories and rampant emotions of a seventeen year old girl. I still wasn't sure where I was or what was going on, so the helplessness fed into the fear I was still experiencing.

Surprisingly, I managed to keep my wits about me. How, I'm still not sure. As my eyes and ears developed back into being able to hear and understand people properly, I lay and waited and learned.

My name was the most shocking and heart-stopping event I registered, though it would be far from my last. The first time I heard it, I detected a British accent. Given that I had never set foot in Britain before, I found this significantly interesting enough that I didn't immediately register my name.

But when it was repeated, I was smashed over the head with the fact that I wasn't in Kansas anymore.

Cassie Dorea Potter.

Potter.

_Harry _Potter.

My reaction to this when it did finally seek in was to wail as loudly as my still-developing lungs would allow me, much to the alarm of the new parents. I was quickly plucked out of my crib and lavished with affection, a milk bottle quickly pushed past my lips.

At least the fact that the world around me was tangible convinced me I wasn't insane. Sure, that had seemed to be the unquestionable result at first, but once I grew in closer contact with the world and the parents I eventually decided that the world was too set, to consistent, to clearly defined to be the hallucinations of a broken-down mind.

Granted this could be a dream, given the possibility that the crash hadn't managed to kill me, just put me in a deep coma, but I still felt I had too much agency for this to be a fabrication. Whenever I dreamed, I was always almost incapable of any movement be it running or walking, and there was a sluggishness to the world that tipped me off to the fact that this might not be reality.

Here, everything was lucid and I could move, albeit only as much as any barely-a-year-old baby could.

Once I had made a definitive decision regarding my sanity, I returned my attention to my name.

My name and all it implied.

Potter.

Daughter of Lily and James Potter.

I had seen them in the flesh, now that I could recognize and store my memory of them. Lily was always smiling, though there was a tiredness and fierceness in her green eyes that I had no familiarity with. James was a man with the laughter of a dog; it always seemed to come out of him in barks. It was strange, I had expected that to be Sirius's line.

Yes, I ended up seeing him too. It had only happened a few times – Sirius, Remus and Pettigrew would come over to the house, always in a group, to see their best friend. Or James would simply bring them home from an Order meeting, and they would all crash on the couch while Lily cooked the meal and rolled her eyes at their antics.

I was standing in my cradle the first time I saw them. Peter Pettigrew walked in with James, who was eager to introduce us.

My reaction was rather petty, I confess. I immediately shrank away from him and made myself cry, so James would shuffle the man away with awkward apologies. No matter how many times he came over, I refused to allow him to hold me or play games with me. Lily scolded me gently over it, chalking it up to shyness in the end. And I was willing to role with that, even if that wasn't the whole reason.

But to me, Peter was utterly synonymous with one word – Traitor.

He would prove not to disappoint me in the future.

Though in the end I wasn't right about everyone, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

**-Given-**

Harry came into the world not long after me.

I don't know at what point I decided to accept my new situation, but Harry arriving in the world cemented what I was in store for. Lily had carried him into my nursery room, her eyes glowing.

"Cassie, look. This is your little brother."

I eyed Harry for a long minute. He looked almost the same as he did in the movies, though his body frame was narrower and more pale then Daniel Radcliff. Eventually I reached out with a small hand and batted at him, causing Lily to laugh and gently withdraw him.

"'Arry!" I protested. At least I sounded like a baby.

"He can't talk just yet, sweetie," Lily said soothingly. "But he will soon." Gently she placed him in his seperate cradle and gave me an intense look. "Promise me you'll take care of him, Cassie? You are the older sibling, after all."

I stared back into those deep green eyes for a moment. All sorts of horrors and dangers flew past my head – the troll, the cerberus, Voldemort, Crouch JR, The Death Eaters, Umbridge, all of it – I imagined it happening, not just as pages on a book but to my brother, my _little _brother who was now lying sound asleep in the cradle next to me.

I loath to admit it, but I wanted to cry and say that wasn't fair. How could _I _protect him from all those things? That's what she was for, her and James, our mother and father.

But I didn't say any of those things. I said, "Kay, mama."

Lily smiled and kissed me on the forehead. "You have a big heart, Cassie," She cooed. "Once daddy gets home, we'll all play together."

I smiled at that – playing with both the parents usually meant magic – but there was a cold feeling in my chest.

I was afraid I had made a promise I couldn't keep.

**-Given-**

If there was one thing about this world that didn't make me quake with fear or anxiety, it was the magic.

Yes, if there was anything that could wash away my fears of the impending prophecy, the war going on outside my bedroom window, the fact that I had _died_, it was magic.

I can't describe the amazement I felt when I saw Lily transfigure something for the first time. It was just a simple thing, a brightly coloured cap into a toy bird. I could hardly believe my eyes!

The first burst of accidental magic of mine was equally enthralling, even though it was making the teapot explode when Dumbledore had come to visit. The fact that it had taken nearly an hour to sink in, it meant that I had _superpowers_.

Laugh it up, but I couldn't see any other way to describe having magic. Especially once you consider the implications (which I tended to do in all situations, thanks to a persistent anxiety disorder). An adult witch could make the laws of physics their bitch, laugh in the face of science, and – the thing _I _found most appealing – they could turn into animals!

The beauty of magic really stuck out to me there. It wasn't just some tedious or frightening responsibility, as it was often portrayed in books, comics or movies. It was a gift, something I could use to make my life easy or explore the world in ways that I would never be able to without it.

**-Given-**

Voldemort came for us.

This shouldn't be a surprise.

I had – to my limited ability as a two year old – tried to warn my mother and father about Pettigrew's impending betrayal. Nothing had worked.

I heard him kill James and saw him kill Lily. I heard her begging for our lives and her final scream when she was killed.

I saw him try to kill Harry. My birthday was in March instead of July, so I suppose the prophecy couldn't have referred to me even if I wanted it to. I saw the curse backfire and his body brutally disintegrate into ash.

I held Harry and cried until we were found by Hagrid and Sirius.

I tried to get Sirius to take us, damn what Dumbledore thought. I held his hand and pleaded. He wanted to take us – I could see that he did. But Hagrid said that Dumbledore told him to move us, and who argues with Dumbledore?

I cried, again, when Sirius left. He looked desperately sorry and angry, and I knew he was looking for Pettigrew. Oh Sirius, don't, please. Harry needs you. I need you.

But I was two years old. I couldn't say any of those things.

So Hagrid took us to the Dursleys, at Number 4 Privet Drive.

Or, as I preferred to call it, Hell.

**End Chapter**

**So? How does it look?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Given**

**Tyene: I never pegged you as the raising a kid type.**

**Wanda: (defensively) I did babysitting...a few years ago...**

**Tyene: I never would have figured that out.**

**Wanda: (annoyed) What's that supposed to mean!? I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 2**

I don't think I ever hated anyone as much as the Dursleys. And while most of it is rooted in the obvious reasons, I had more personal reasons rooted in prior experience.

In my first life, I was relatively happy. I had a family that loved me. I was safe and secure in a country not at war. I didn't have a goddamn scar on my forehead that might as well be a giant neon sign saying 'please make my life a living hell!'. I could do the things I wanted.

And you know what I had never felt? I had never been locked in a boot cupboard that was barely big enough for me, let alone me _and_ my new baby brother. I had never been screamed at for things that weren't my fault. I had never been forced to do the cooking and the cleaning and all the chores while a cousin stomped around, finding new ways to make my life miserable.

If I could find the person/entity/whatever that put me in this second life, I would punch them in the face. And then hit them with a crowbar. Whoever it was, they had an incredibly warped sense of humour.

I don't think I would have felt this way if I didn't remember everything. But I did.

And believe me – going from having a loving family to a bunch of fatass tormentors is a bitter, bitter pill to swallow. If you were in my shoes, you'd be pissed off too.

My name – well, my name now – is Cassie Dorea Potter.

And in which lay my first, most obvious, problem.

I had zero illusions about the life of a Potter. To me, the life of a Potter meant the following things-

1 – being yanked around by a crazy manipulative bastard who chucks you headfirst into deadly situations and is cheerfully plotting your death.

2 – it means constantly being distrusted or hated for no good reason other then some asshole didn't manage to kill you when you were a baby.

3 – it meant being fate's chewtoy.

4 – It meant loosing people you loved. It meant loosing friends. It meant almost permanently living in fear for your life. It meant no childhood, little hope, and little happiness. It meant having to constantly fight to keep yourself safe from the day you first stepped into the world.

To put it mildly; I was not thrilled. I was pissed off, and I wasn't even sure who I was most angry at – the people inhabiting this world, the Dusleys or whoever decided to put me here. Not Dumbledore; though I was plenty pissed at him too – whoever put my spirit in this new body instead of letting me pass on.

**-Given-**

The very early years – the somewhat blurred moments of a two year old's memory – were the easiest moments. Children so small are easily susceptible to permanent damage, and I suppose Petunia did want us eventually returned to Mr Dumbledore in one piece. Maybe she was worried that if we had any _permanent _harm done to us, like brain damage from getting dropped down the stairs, loosing a limb or two or large burns, he would turn her into a donkey. So she and her husband endeavoured to ensure that our bodies received the bare minimum care to ensure physical health, so they didn't go around dropping us on our heads or hitting us with frying pans just yet. After all, that could quite possibly spell death and that would put _them _in a pretty pickle. They kept us safe from any severe harm.

Permanent damage – hah! I braved it better then Harry thanks to seventeen years of prior experience and perceptive, but it was far from being 'a little thinner and hungrier' then the average, happy and well adjusted child. The first day Harry was confined to the cupboard by himself, he was afraid of _me_. He cried and wouldn't let me touch him for several hours.

We also ate rarely. I can pinpoint the exact year we started getting less then a growing child needed – by the time I was four years old, Vernon decided that was old enough to survive on rabbit food for the sake of his son. I remember because on the night of my birthday, I was given three large carrot sticks for dinner. And that was it. Harry got two.

My stomach kept me up for half the night, rolling and burning like I had swallowed acid. The next morning, I found myself periodically dizzy and struggled to pay attention to my surroundings, which naturally pissed Vernon off more because he needed to tell me three times to get my chores down. In punishment, I had to miss lunch.

I would've pointed out his self-defeating logic if I hadn't been partially certain that he would have strangled me for backtalk. It wasn't as if that wasn't in his nature, either.

When I was five years old, I made a snide remark about a report from school regarding Dudley's behaviour. Vernon turned around and slapped me across the face, knocking me off my chair and onto the floor.

"You shut your mouth, girl! I won't be tolerating any sass from you!"

My head was reeling. I had never been struck like that before. Sure, I had taken karate classes when I was younger, but that was completely different. Everyone there was pulling their punches and the teachers weren't trying to hurt you.

The impact was different. My cheek was burning and my eyes welled up against my will. I scarcely heard Petunia demand I apologize to Dudley as I fought to process this. When she shouted it again, I lashed out without thinking.

"If he's so damn smart, what does he care what I think?"

Petunia slapped me this time. The skin on my cheek cracked. I gritted my teeth hard to keep myself from crying in pain.

My emotional state hadn't really reset itself to a young girl. Inside, I was still a teenaged girl with clinical depression and mid to high functioning autism. The combination made me bitter, seething and stubborn. I refused to give them any sort of satisfaction by making me cry.

I stared at them the whole time as I got up, turned around and 'apologized' to Dudley. It didn't sound sincere in my ears, but Vernon was satisfied. I left the room and crawled into the cupboard.

The space was small. So small. It was tiny and dark and spiders crawled along inches from my face. The whole enclosure stank – we were lucky if we were allowed to bathe twice a week and it stuck to the walls. There wasn't enough room inside for me and Harry to both lie down, so often I found myself sleeping sitting up against the wall with Harry curled up on my legs. I often woke with spiders nesting in my hair, and a few times we were joined by mice who bit our hands and nibbled holes in what few possessions we were allowed.

I hated the cupboard I hated Vernon and I just wanted to scream -

_**CRASH!**_

An explosion. So loud.

My head snapped up when I heard the shattering of glass, the whole house ringing with the force of it. Petunia and Dudley both screamed, and Harry bolted into the cupboard next to me a moment later snuggling into the protection of my embrace. Clutching my tiny brother against my chest, I stared out mess in the living room while my heart attempted to beat its way out of my chest.

Hastily I pulled the cupboard door closed as Vernon burst in, cricket bat in hand. Petunia appeared a moment later.

"What the devil just happened!? Pet, the windows! They're all broken!"

My breath hitched. It took a moment, but it hit me with the force of a train when Petunia, as seen through the tiny vents of the cupboard, went very white.

Accidental Magic. _My _accidental magic.

I was a witch.

**-Given-**

So, to say that I did not get along with my 'aunt' and 'uncle' was a bit of an understatement. After that event, the twosome where somewhat more wary around me. While it in now way encouraged them to give me a real dinner or cease using me as a servant, Vernon evidently wasn't in a hurry to have to buy three sets of replacement windows more often then he had to. Perhaps he was also worried that I could do worse if he hit me harder.

If it was just me, I would have done my absolute best to give them my worst. I had figured out, in my first attempt at life, that I could be a bitch when I was at my worst. With magic (it was hard to even think it at first, I was so conditioned to believe it impossible) at my disposal, while I couldn't use specific spells yet, I could probably add a delightful layer of distress to their 'normal' lifestyles. (as if locking your niece and nephew in a boot cupboard to sleep somehow constituted 'normal' behaviour)

But there wasn't just me to consider.

Harry Potter was my little brother – not by much, but that effectively made him my responsibility because do you think Petunia Dursley gives a damn if the kid gets wet or hasn't eaten? No, no she does not.

When he was three and four, around the time when our guardian's mistreatment began to escalate, Harry was timid and easily cowed. Dudley liked to pick on him, even though theoretically I was the better target due to being the 'weaker' sex. Even as a little kid, the tub of lard had a punch hard enough to leave bruises. As soon as he was old enough to do chores, Vernon was breathing down his neck shouting at him to get stuff done. No where was safe for the 'boy-who-lived'.

As a consequence, Harry was terrified of everyone and everything. He was a shy, introverted doormat.

So I took care of him. Little two year old me, from the very beginning.

Because what choice did I have?

Little Harry Potter had the most heartbreaking green eyes I had ever seen. I know they were his – our – mother's eyes. He looked just like he was described. Me? I was an inverted version of him – a girl who looked exactly like her mother except for her father's blue eyes. Long red hair (Petunia never took me to have it cut, because that would cost perfectly good money) vibrant pale skin, a tall and slender build. I didn't look anything like I used too, though I suppose that came with the territory.

Strange as it may seem, I actually think our appearances affected which adult hated us more. Petunia, I came to realize, despised my existence even more then Harry's – if there had been a choice of only taking care of one of us, she would have picked him in a moment. I had an inkling why, too. I was all but a reincarnation of Lily Evans, the sister who had been gifted with magic, the sister who had everything that Petunia had wanted.

Petunia had done everything she could to separate herself from Lily, envy and bitterness rotting her to her core. And yet just when she had formed her 'perfect' family away from all that strangeness, I was dropped on her doorstep, a living shadow and reminder of the sister she had perceived as being better loved than she.

And if you had met the woman for more then an hour, if she thought you weren't watching her and therefore putting out her best behaviour, there wasn't much of a 'perception' to it. Petunia needed to realize that being a needlessly self-interested bitch was a bit of a turn off for most people.

Of course, that would require that she and her husband pull their heads out of their asses long enough to gather a shred of empathy for the people around him.

Our clothing wasn't much different from the rest of our situation. Harry and I were both stuck wearing Dudley's cast offs – seriously, did Petunia hate her own child that much that she named him that? Maybe that woman just hates children in general.

That wouldn't surprise me.

**-Given-**

Like the rest of the Dursleys' _stellar _parenting, the chores weren't heaped on when we were very young. However, practically the moment we were walking easily on our own power, we might as well have been transported into the Cinderella fairytale.

Dishes, laundry, mopping, dusting, and vacuuming were chores usually defaulted to me. It was because I was the _girl _of the house, you see?

On top of everything else, Vernon was positively medieval in his misogynistic attitude towards me. I don't know if he hides this side of him from Petunia or if she had an equally low opinion of women in general.

At first, I would initially let a few things minor slide just out of spite, but Vernon seemed to realize I had a pressure point. Anything he felt I hadn't done sufficiently was handed off to Harry once he had done _his _chores, which usually included doing Dudley's homework and tending to the garden.

So I sucked up my ever increasing bitterness and hatred towards this family and did the cleaning better then average.

Something I noticed, however, was that the more upset I was the more prone to accidental magic I was. While the exploding windows remained my most fantastic display, it was far from my last – Dudley's beef sandwich turning to dirt, Petunia doing the splits and pulling a hamster, glasses exploding and car tires breaking tended to surround me on my worst days.

Vernon and Petunia valiantly tried to counter this by giving me less food – or taking a swing at me with the frying pan, whatever was closer at hand. They completely ignored the fact this did nothing to stop them – and they tended to happen more often after they did that. Thankfully, at least some of the bouts were attributed to bad weather, jackass teenagers or the likes.

Harry was having bursts of his own, but they tended to be fewer and further inbetween – likely because he didn't have the capacity to reach for more of his powers yet. However, his explosions tended to be more spectacular then mine.

One of Marge's visits involved Ripper getting transformed into a plush doll when he was harassing me once again. (That damned mutt). I don't know how he got turned back – I guess Figg must have noticed and called for a wizard to fix it.

Oh, Figg. What she mistook as my thinly disguised hatred was actually me fighting to suppress the desire to call her out on knowing that we were magical or just _fucking doing something about the Dursleys, she lived right next to us how could she not know_. Every time we went to her house was somewhat of a reprieve, but we still weren't allowed to enjoy ourselves.

Sometimes, I wished I could kill Vernon and Petunia. That I could bring myself to go into the kitchen late at night, grab the bread knife and end their lives.

But I wasn't a killer. Not then, not even for them.

So instead I brooded in the cupboard, letting all that rage fester until I couldn't bear it anymore.

**-Given-**

I knew what to expect around here, but reading about it was different from experiencing it.

The first swing of the frying pan shattered any illusion I might have possessed about these first years getting any easier. I was lucky I didn't get a concussion, but the blow knocked me out for several hours. When I came to, Petunia simply shoved some advil into my hands and shepherded me back into the cupboard.

Have I mentioned I'm claustrophobic?

I hated the cupboard. I hated everything about Privet Drive and its inhabitants.

The only thing I didn't hate was Harry. So instead, I got to stress over how badly the Dursleys treated him.

**One Day After School**

"I'm telling mummy!"

"Tell her, you miserable little shit!" I spat back, cradling Harry in my arms. The younger boy had a broken lip and was bleeding everywhere despite the cloth I was pressing against him. I was holding him upright in a bid to keep him from choking on the blood that was spilling down his face. The boy was sobbing and pressing himself against my chest; I could only pray that the school teacher who had seen me had called an ambulance. "Tell her! Get out of here before I strangle you!"

Dudley and two of his braindead friends, Piers and some other kid who's name I never bothered to remember, were standing in front of us. Dudley was sporting a black eye now, since I had punched him in the face. His two friends were similarly rattled; Piers had a bald spot on his head where hair had been yanked out while the other kid was missing a tooth.

I had just gotten out of math class when I first witnessed Harry hunting. Three large, fat boys against one skinny little kid who hadn't slept well the previous night. Harry had fallen and they were kicking him from all sides.

"You can't call me that!" Dudley blustered. "Mummy said-"

"I don't give a shit what your _mummy_ thinks!" I snarled. "You hurt him, you vicious little _brat_!"

I felt something inside me surge, then suddenly Dudley and his friends were screaming – a rabid dog appeared out of nowhere and started chasing them. It looked like Ripper, which I suppose was my fault.

The dog had taken an instant disliking to me when Marge had come for one of her mercifully infrequent visits. I still had scars on my leg from when it attacked me in the back yard. Marge had refused to call Ripper off for two minutes after the attack started, claiming that I had 'provoked' him.

All I could really do was count my blessings that I had managed to prevent the scars from getting infected.

The further they got away from me, I noticed that the dog's image shuddered. I let out my breath and it disappeared. _Accidental magic. _By nature, you couldn't really prepare for it – I still had shocks whenever it happened.

"It hurts, Cassie..." Harry whimpered. I petted his hair with my free hand as the yard supervisor came running.

"Shhh, shh, it's going to be okay, it'll stop hurting, I promise..." I whispered. The supervisor helped Harry stand up and the two of us moved to the nurses's office.

I sat outside while the woman fussed over Harry, bemoaning how often he managed to get himself hurt, my stomach burning. Dudley and his friends always had it out for Harry, but it was getting worse as the years went by. This wasn't the first time they'd managed to give Harry serious injuries.

And unfortunately, it wasn't going to get any easier when we got home. I was probably out of meals for a week, plus a double chore load, for having injured Petunia's precious 'Dudders'. The last time that had happened, I was delirious for nearly an hour leaving Harry entirely at our 'family's mercy.

I could already hear both Petunia and Vernon screaming at me. _Freak, monster, brat, ungrateful, waste of space, should have abandoned you to the orphanage, should have died with your parents-_

I was seven years old. And I was absolutely sick of it.

Hearing Harry, the only person I could claim to love or who loved me, cry because Dudley had hurt him once again, was simply a snapping point.

I knew the world out there was dangerous, but how was being locked in with abusers who threw cast iron objects at us any different from being locked in a house with Lucius Malfoy?

I asked to get my bag. Once I had retrieved it, I counted out six dollars. Enough for a bus fare for both of us. A change of clothes, just in case. Fantastic.

A plan wormed its way into my head, an insane plan, but I had stopped caring at some point. Anything had to be better then this.

When Harry was eventually released by the nurse, gauze taped to his lip, I took his hand and whispered, "C'mon Harry."

"But Cassie, you're going the wrong way," Harry protested when we left the school and I turned to the left, away from Privet Drive. "Home is that way."

I tightened my grip on his hand, pausing my stride. As much as I loathed to even consider it, Petunia being our blood relative did mean that an impenetrable protection was around that house. At least we wouldn't have to worry about the Death Eaters.

But I rebelled against that. It wouldn't protect us from the Dementors that Umbridge sent after Harry in the story from home. It didn't protect us from the monsters we were locked in with. And there was nothing in all the world that would convince me that Harry's blood, which still coated my jacket, was worth being spilled to keep us a little bit safe.

"We're not going that way, Harry." I told him. "We're not going there ever again."

Harry looked at me in surprise. There was honest-to-god _hope _in his eyes, and a glimmer of fear that it was misplaecd. "Really?" He whispered. "You promise?"

I took a shaky breath. "I promise, Harry." I said softly. I started walking again, tugging urgently on his arm. "Now come on, we have to get going."

**Later**

After some frustrating searching through maps and other such things (leaving me wishing, not for the first time, that this was 2015 and the internet was a thing), I finally located a bus that would take us to London. Once we got there, I took us on foot to a particular stretch of the city and tapped the bricks with my fingers.

I still remembered where the entrance to Diagon Alley was, and the Leaky Cauldron was the first stopping point that I had in mind.

Right now, however, I was entertaining an older lady – a squib! Imagine that – with sob stories about myself and Harry. She felt so sorry for us she gave me ten galleons.

Okay. So I was getting lucky today. I felt like fate owed me a little luck after the shit that had happened over the course of the last few years.

It wasn't enough to buy a room, of course. Me and Harry had to sneak in, hiding away in the basement of the building in a bed of ratty blankets and cardboard boxes. I had managed to buy a sandwich in the muggle world, which we split between the two of us.

Harry was amazed by everything, and he had been pestering me to explain. I was too mentally and emotionally exhausted to tell him the whole, 'we're actually wizards' deal, so I just promised to tell him later and to get some sleep.

I didn't go to sleep quite yet. After Harry had fallen asleep, I went looking for the wizarding equivalent of a post office. The Magical Emporium actually had a service where you could send a letter anywhere for a few galleons. I had just enough, and I sent a tawny brown owl off in the direction of Hogwarts.

It was for a certain Headmaster.

_Dear Mr Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore._

_I don't think there are words for how much I hate you. If there are, I can't think of them._

_When you left us on the doorstep of Number 4 Privet Drive, did you – did you know what kind of people lived in there? Did you know how they would treat us? And if you did know, why didn't you drop a hint – any sort of hint – that would make them stop?_

_Do you have any idea what you've put me and my brother through? I can tell you, it involved getting smashed over the head with a cast iron frying pan. It involved no meals for extended periods of time, it involved getting worked like a house elf while our cousin put considerable effort into making our lives miserable. It involved me having to parent my six year old brother because neither our aunt and uncle gave a damn about our health._

_Did you know? Did you know how they treated us? Did you know about the belt or the cupboard? I have some scars on my legs to prove how awful these people are. That house has never been home to us, and it never will be home. It has been a prison. A gateway to hell in the living world._

_We're not there anymore. Dudley broke Harry's lip yesterday and that was all I could take. I took Harry and I left – where we'll go, I don't know yet. But I do know that anywhere will be better then with our aunt and uncle._

_I can't imagine what possessed you to leave us with these people. And yes, I know it was you – children listen, especially when weird people come up to them and start bowing to them like their the prince and princess of Wales or something. _

_If you DID know, I want you to know that I will never, ever forgive you for putting us through that. _

_Hello and Goodbye (and, quite possibly, good riddance);_

_Cassie Dorea Potter (and Harry James Potter)_

**End Chapter**

**Rewritten and expanded! Next time, myself and Harry wander around as street kids as I plan to go rat hunting (and realize I might not have thought this through all the way)**

**Read and Review please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Given**

**Tyene: ...I didn't realize you could be such a _mess_.**

**Wanda: (Grumpily) We all have our bad days. I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 3: Struggles**

The problem with running away was that you never really had a plan once you had actually succeeded. Thus, you didn't really have contingencies like, where will you sleep? What will you eat?, among many, many others.

So a day after I sent my letter to Dumbledore I was already wondering if I should have thought this through more. I'd used the last of the pity money I'd gotten yesterday for a filling breakfast for myself and Harry, and it was beginning to occur to me that I needed a plan.

Right now, I was sitting with my back against a store wall with a small rusted bucket sitting in front of me, Harry snuggled up against my shoulder and sleeping. We had been here for several hours and only had a few Sickles to show for it. I suppose it's better then nothing, but it was in no way a long – term strategy.

Kids didn't belong on the street. Even without Death Eaters out, there were still petty thieves, paedophiles, random murderers, pimps and more who all pose a significant threat to a pair of underage children with no home to go to. It wouldn't take them long to notice us.

I had lucked out with the basement of the Leaky Cauldron, but how long could we afford to stay down there?

When it came to a safe place to stay, my mind immediately jumped to Remus Lupin or Sirius Black. I knew they would take us, but one was a werewolf and the other was in Azkaban. I didn't really know the extent of the werewolf laws in Britain, but I had an inkling they didn't allow them to raise children.

Ignoring that Remus could probably send us to a friend's house for the night when he went through the transformations, but prejudice didn't allow room for stuff like logic.

It actually took me a while to think of something I might do for Sirius. At first I thought it was simple – collect rat and hand him over to the Ministry, thereby clearing him of the murder he supposedly committed.

But when I started thinking about it, I realized a number of problems that made it seem insurmountable.

Firstly, I would have to find the Burrow and somehow swipe the rat. Then I would have to hold onto him – how would I do that, if I wasn't able to stun him and he got suspicious? He would bolt, and then how would I find him again? And even then, if I somehow managed to prevent him from getting away from me, how was I going to convince anyone that this little rat was Pettigrew? Perhaps Remus would be able to tell the difference, but I didn't know where he lived or how to get in contact with him.

I mean, why would wizards employ something as pithy and _muggle _as phone books?

There was also another fact to consider – would the Ministry even want to reopen Sirius's case? It would be pretty embarrassing for them to admit that, when they thought that they had captured Tom Riddle's second-in-command, they had actually jumped the gun and imprisoned an innocent man. For several years. In a literal hell on earth, surrounded by soul-sucking, depression-causing demons.

In my last life, I had had chronic depression. The very concept of a dementor was more terrifying to me then any slasher movie Wes Craven could cook up. Just one encounter sounded life-scarring.

Being surrounded by them twenty four seven, any chance of good feelings destroyed by relentless horror and misery? I would sooner put a shotgun in my mouth and see what gun oil tastes like. God, how did Sirius survive in there?

I shook my head in frustration, muttering a thank you when some generous soul dropped a galleon in my bucket. A familiar feeling of helplessness swamped me. What use was knowledge if there was nothing I could do with it?

I ran my fingers roughly through my red hair. This was doing me no favors. I had to get myself and Harry off the street _and _I had to make sure we didn't end up back with the Dursleys.

It was around this moment that it occurred to me that the simplest solution may require the simplest answer.

It would not go unnoticed that Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived or whatever other ridiculous title these people had given him, and his beloved caretaker (his sister) were wandering around on the street, lost. And given that it was too early for them to be bouncing between hating and loving us since we weren't in school yet, undoubtedly they would all rush to the aide of their battered little savior.

Undoubtedly, it would get Dumbledore's attention, but I had a plan for that. Once he came to get us – which I planned to be in a very public place – I would refuse to leave until he told us where we would stay. And if he said the Dursleys...well...

I would throw the mother of all bitchfits.

I would act at my worst. I would scream and rant and use words that no six year old is supposed to know. I would scream their abuse of us for everyone to hear. I would show the scars from Ripper's fangs on my legs. With luck, there would be some families in the area, their children wanting to see the boy-who-lived. Some mothers and fathers who loved and cared for their children. Sympathetic people, perhaps a few who had experienced abuse themselves.

I would make an utter spectacle out of it. I would make sure that everyone knew exactly who the Dursleys were, where they lived, and how they treated us.

Let Dumbledore try and send us back then. The public would crucify him.

At least, I hoped they would.

The thought made me straight-up shudder – the idea that people would turn a blind eye to the abuse going on inside a house. Maybe they wouldn't think it was their problem, maybe they thought it wouldn't matter. Certainly people stopped caring whether or not Harry was getting hurt by the time he was in fourth year. Or maybe even earlier then that, like second year or the tail end of the first.

I rubbed my hands against my shoulders; the cold wind was picking up.

Bile rose up in my throat. I tried to strangle the negative feelings that had ruled me ever since our internment with the Dursleys. Some nights I actually felt like Harry was _lucky_. The abuse was all he knew. He didn't know there was a good and gentle world out there, where people cared and there were mothers who picked you up and held you when you were hurt.

Knowing all that, and still having to bear their hatred, their contempt, their cruelty, made the Dursley house almost unbearable for me. If it hadn't been for Harry...fuck, I had to have been more of a guardian to Harry! Me! Little fucking seventeen year old me! Even after seven years of this life, I still felt like that seventeen year old girl who never got to grow up. What the fuck did I know about raising kids or destroying evil dark lords!?

I banged my head back against the stone wall. The worst part of all these bad feelings was that there was nowhere for them to go. There wasn't any way for me to write, to read, or to somehow expel it all in a healthy way. The only relief was occasional accidental magic.

Speaking of magic. I raised my head and watched some passing adults cast featherlight charms in order to move their considerable loads. Envy swelled up in my stomach.

I wanted to learn magic. I wanted to actually use it. It was beautiful and strange and powerful. Accidental magic was special in its own way, but I couldn't control it, I couldn't use it to make art..._yet_, anyhow. That would change when I got to Hogwarts.

That would change when I gained a magical family for myself and my brother.

Gently I shook Harry awake. "Wha?" He murmured, rubbing his eyes.

"Wake up, sleepyhead. I've got a plan now." I said encouragingly, wrapping an arm around him and helping him to his feet.

"We going back to the boxes?" Harry asked sleepily.

"No," I said. "We're going to find a better place to sleep, okay? There's a hotel near here."

**-Given-**

I lead Harry into the leaky Cauldron. The poor kid was still half asleep; all that running yesterday had really taken everything he had to give. Pausing outside the door, I quickly and gently rubbed away the makeup (stolen from Petunia that morning to hide a bruise) that had hidden his scar before walking into the pub.

It didn't look like a very respectable place – the whole front room stank of alcohol (or failing that, something with heavy alcoholic content), the people were rowdy and barely contained in their drunken, maniac energy. Harry was frightened by all the noise; he pressed against my side like Velcro. Determindly I made my way through the crowd and tapped on the bell at the front desk.

A man who was presumably Tom came up to us a moment later and frowned when he realized he was looking down at a potential client. "Hello there, children." He said kindly. "Are you looking for your parents?"

My heart threatened to jump into my throat. All those thoughts I had entertained about what being a Potter meant came back and ambushed me, filling me with nausea. Harry looked anxiously at me, waiting for me to speak, and I forced myself to breathe around the ball in my throat.

"Actually, I was hoping I could at least get a room for my brother," I said as strongly as I could. My voice was a wisp in the air. "We've been out on the street for a day and I'm worried for him. I-I don't have much, but..." I emptied all the money I had out onto the desk.

Tom looked sympathetically at me. I knew that face – it was when an adult felt sorry for you, but couldn't oblige your desire for whatever reason. "I'm terribly sorry, dear, that can't accommodate you both...but perhaps I can call in something...what are your names?"

"Cassie Potter." I responded. "My brother is Harry Potter."

The rabble in the crowd died immediately.

Heat burned under my skin when I felt dozens of eyes fall on me and my little brother. I had never been good with people. A person, yes. A few friends, alright. A dozen, a couple dozen or more? I would rather be shot, more preferably hiding away with a book or music. I _hated _being the centre of attention – probably even more then Harry did back in the books I had read.

"Bless my soul," Tom whispered. His voice had taken on a disturbingly worshipful lit; it was as if he was addressing national war heroes instead of a pair of siblings not yet in their preteens. "The Potter Children."

As if signalled, the crowd gathered around us snapping pictures and shaking our hands. Harry squeaked and tried to hide behind me, while I tried to blink away the bright lights from the cameras while total strangers gushed over how pretty I was and how wonderful it was to see me and my oh-so-important brother back in the world. Words blurred together into a general babble that I had no hope to discern as the crowd pushed closer around us.

I was starting to feel sick when I heard clinking. I looked up to see people tossing coins at Tom; cost to cover our rooms. As soon as he handed me a key, I dis tangled Harry from my midsection and burst down the hallway towards the doorms.

We bolted into our room, shut the door and shoved a chair in front of it. I stumbled backwards, breathing heavily, before turning my attention to Harry.

He had gone stark white, something that made his green eyes seem over bright. "What was all that about, Cassie?" He demanded, scared. "Why did those people know us?"

I just walked over to the bed and collapsed on it. My adrenaline was wearing off, leaving only a stress sickness taking hold in my chest. "Our parents were famous here, Harry?"

"Why?"

"They were famous because they died." The words came out flatly. I mentally screamed at myself to be more gentle, I was talking about our parents for chrissake. But I was too tired to keep faking it, and my stomach reviled at the idea of sugarcoating something I had see happen with my own eyes.

There was nothing glorious about Lily Potter's death. She had died begging, unwilling to step aside and pay for her own life with her son's blood. James had been struck down without a thought, even though he posed no threat without his wand. There was nothing special, nothing noble or heartwarming. It was just a murder, no different from any other involving parents. Just a murder we had been fortunate (or unfortunate, given our circumstances) to survive.

"But Aunt Petunia said they died in a car crash."

"Aunt Petunia is a liar!" I snapped, sitting up straight. Harry flinched away from me. Forcing myself to sound calmer, I said, "I learned the truth just before I learned about this place. You know those strange people that always seem to know us?"

"Yeah...I think I recognized one of them in the crowd back there."

"Yes, well I walked out of class one day. Nancy Drayner was being a pain in the neck and I was tired of dealing with her. I went outside and one of these wizards came up to me. When I chased him and asked why he had bowed to me, he told me that a dark sorcerer had killed our parents, and that we had survived." My eyes travelling to the scar on his forehead, I added, "Well...I said that _you _survived the curse he used to kill our parents. You lived – we lived – when everyone else had died."

Harry stared at me for a long moment. There's an emptiness in his eyes, a lack of understanding that can only come from someone who doesn't think they're worth dying for. "But...me? Why would anyone want to kill me?"

I gestured for him to come closer. Harry sat down on the side of the bed and I took his hand in mine. "There are bad people out in the world, Harry." I said. "Some of them just want power over other people. They want to be the supreme ruler of everything they see. Maybe they think they'd do a better job, or maybe they just feel like they deserve it. And these people will do anything to get this power. They don't care who they hurt...or who they kill."

"But...but _why_?" Harry repeated, tears forming at the edges of his eyes. "Why mom and dad?"

_The prophecy_. I shook my head, another swirl of emotions intensifying the stress induced nausea in my gut. "Because they were good people, Harry. Because they were loving and gentle and noble, everything that dark sorcerer wasn't."

Harry's grip on my hand tightens. "Did they love us, Cassie? Mum and dad, did they love us?"

My vision blurs. _Christ_, what kid should have to ask that!? Harry shouldn't be sitting here wondering if Lily and James loved us at all. He should be laughing and annoying me over breakfast while our parents try to get us ready for the day. He shouldn't be scarred and shattered from how the Dursleys treated us.

Fuck Riddle and his followers. Fuck Dumbledore. Fuck this entire magical world.

"Y-yes they did," My throat hurts trying to hold the tears back. "They l-loved us very much, Harry."

Harry curls up in my lap just as he used to, despite the fact the bed is big enough for both of us, and went to sleep.

I waited until I was sure he was sleeping soundly, then I slipped out from under him and pulled the covers up over him. Once I had done that I immediately ran out to the bathroom and threw up. Since I had eaten so little that day it was painful and my throat and mouth burned with stomach acids.

I pressed myself against the cold stone walls and started to cry. My whole body shook with the force of my sobs. This was all so _fucked _up! I didn't want any of this, I wanted to wake up and be back in my familiar life where there was nothing on the horizon for me to fear. I wanted to be back with a loving family and friendly cat, with a few friends and a future as a writer. I didn't want any of this.

I cried and cried until I had no tears left to shed. I was sick with stress and had no medication I could take for it, so I merely went back to our room, put a stool by the door and dropped a bucket by my feet. Well, I had gotten away from the Dursleys but my situation hadn't changed much – I was miserable, uncomfortable and afraid.

**-Given-**

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore came for us in the middle of the night.

I don't know how the hell news got to him so fast – there must have been a former Order member or someone equally enamoured with him in the crowd. I was still perched on my stool, my stomach a riot, when I heard Tom address him. There was still some hubbub – obviously the crowd intended to stake the Cauldron out until they got a satisfactory talk/interview/whatever sort of social media contact with my hero brother and his caretaker.

I glanced over at Harry. Still sleeping. Carefully I left our room and closed the door behind me, forcing myself to take a deep breath.

_You have to face him at some point, _I reminded myself. _There's no escaping it. Besides, this is part of the plan...thank god there's a group down there..._

Steeling all the courage and strength that I had left to me at that moment, I made my way down the hall towards the entrance.

Dumbledore looked...older then I expected, somehow. Intellectually, of course, I knew he was over one hundred, but he seemed more...worn, then any of his depictions in my first life had shown me. His shoulders seemed to droop, his posture slighter, his hair more wispy and thin. He didn't look like a commanding old master, he looked like a tired old man.

Any sense of pity I felt in that moment was quickly overrode by anger. _He sent you to the Dursleys! _I reminded myself. _He may be against Voldemort, but he's no Big Good!_

"...so the children are here?"

"Yes, came in this afternoon, the poor dears." Tom was saying as I got closer. "Said they had spent the day on the street and had nowhere to go! I can hardly believe that's so, but I imagine they wouldn't be out here if it wasn't true."

"Yes, sir." I said quietly, drawing the crowd's attention to me.

Dumbledore turns his head towards me. His blue eyes didn't twinkle the way I imagined they would, but perhaps that's because this wasn't the right moment. What I feel then are a pair of blue laser lights trying to pierce right through me and tear me apart. It isn't a sensation I welcome; it tells me to fear the man before me beyond all reason.

Not exactly the best reaction when faced with the man who's your single greatest support against an enemy with power beyond measure. An enemy you know will return...

...unless you can change the rules.

"Are you Mr Dumbledore?" I asked neutrally.

"Yes I am." He said. His voice was calm and soothing and for once I'm glad of my stubbornness. I don't want comfort right now.

"You sent us to live with them." I said accusingly. It's a retread of my letter, but I wasn't saying it for his benefit. I was saying it for the crowd, who was eagerly listening in on this conversation. Everyone had hushed. It's unnervingly quiet.

"I did what I thought was best for you," Dumbledore said quietly.

I felt my eye twitch. My hands squeeze convulsively and I can't keep the words from spilling out of my mouth. "That's bullshit." I snarled. All the reporters gasp. "Best for us? Best for us, them? Are you high? Are you on drugs _right now_?"

Dumbledore gave me a pained look. With everything I knew about the man, I couldn't tell for sure if he was sincere enough. With a past and decisions as tangled and brutal as his, I couldn't bring myself to trust him objectively especially with my brother and myself.

I knew hatred and I knew fear when I met him that day.

"You are safe at your aunt and uncle's house."

The words felt like a slap against the face. no. It was like a strike from the frying pan. Suddenly I was screaming, letting everything out."

"BULL! SHIT! Safe? SAFE!? No one's safe there! They hate us! They make us sleep in a boot cupboard! They feed us three times a week if we're lucky! We bathe _once _a week if we're lucky! They let dogs chase us down and maul us, they let Dudley beat us up and break our bones! They tell us that we don't deserve to be alive, that we're freaks, burdens, that we should have died with our parents! They _lied _about our parents, how they died and who they were! Have you ever gotten hit in the head with a frying pan for something your brother did!? Have you ever been locked in a tiny black enclosure for seven days because something you couldn't explain happened!? Have you ever had to cradle someone you loved after they were beaten with a belt, sit there and worry that they might choke on their blood or that their scars might get infected!? Have you ever had to sleep in your own piss or shit!? Have you ever had to live in a world where you think that no one would ever love you or want you!? Those people aren't family! THAT IS NOT OUR HOME! **I WOULD RATHER BE FUCKING DEAD THEN LIVE IN THAT HOUSE AGAIN!**"

The silence after my rant is ringing. Everyone's staring at me again. I let out a sob, and my body is wracked with a tremor.

Would that break the blood wards? I hope so.

"I'll never go back there," I vowed shakily. My voice cracks. "If I ever go back, I'll run away again. I'll run all the way to America and take Harry with me. I never...I never..."

Crumpling to the floor isn't staged. Crying forlornly isn't staged. I had so little control over my emotions. As a teenager it was embarrassing. But now it was so overwhelming I didn't even care that I had a large audience.

"You'll never go back."

I don't recognize the voice. I hiccough a few times before raising my head. A blurred and indistinct figure is standing near me, offering me a black-gloved hand. Tentatively I took it and let this strange person pull me to my feet.

"These children – the boy who destroyed our worst enemy and his sister have known terrible suffering." The man said to the crowd, ignoring Dumbledore. I don't look at the old man. I'm not even sure who's talking. I'm dazed. "And I cannot, in good conscious, continue to allow Mr Dumbledore to handle their welfare if he allowed them to end up in such a despicable place."

This was definitely a politician.

"Barty-" Dumbledore started.

Barty? As in, Barty Crouch Sr? _This _guy was my savior!? I blinked rapidly and stare at the man. He looked exactly as he had in the movies, if younger. He projected confidence and assurance as he addressed the bloodthirsty-looking crowd, who had begun cheering upon this remark.

"As their muggle family has proven _insufficient_-" A roar of anger.

I suddenly felt a spike of fear – had I just ensured that some pieces of anti-muggle legislation had support to go through? _No, that couldn't be – Dumbledore wouldn't allow it, he's Supreme Mugwump and on the ICW-_

"-I shall take it upon myself to find their next of kin among our fellow wizards!"

Maybe it was the roaring of the crowds, maybe it was the lack of food. But upon this pronouncement, the world suddenly blurred and spun and turned black as I fainted.

**End Chapter**

**Harry and I's chosen guardians will be Andromeda and Ted Tonks. However, I shall not take to them, or anyone else for that matter, immediately. Also, I didn't immediately go rat hunting because there were too many obstacles and no pheasable way for me to trap him just yet. But don't worry - I'm working on it.**

**Read and Review please!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Given**

**Tyene: You know some people don't like these stories because they always end up so neat and tidy, right?**

**Wanda: Believe it or not, I did realize that - hopefully you will all be surprised by this. I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 4: House and Home**

Harry and I were brought to the Tonks's house quite briskly once I came around. Crouch brought us to the Ministry first, and asked me to testify for how badly the Dursleys had treated us. When I asked him about it, he clarified that the Ministry had some jurisdiction to punish abusive muggle guardians of young witches and wizards.

Well, once I'd heard that, I spilled everything, Harry occasionally chiming in – he was still somewhat confused and disoriented thanks to being woken from one of his first truly restful nights. We were given food, water and some potions – Crouch said they were nutrient stimulants, to make up for how little we had eaten prior to this.

This was the place I met Ted and Nymphadora Tonks for the first time. He was a young man, fairly good-looking but possessing a seemingly permanent serious expression. I had forgotten that he was a lawyer; after a while it became a bit difficult to keep up with all the character's backstories especially when they had a (comparatively) smaller role then Harry or his immediate friends and family.

Whenever I stopped during my admission, Tonks would smile encouragingly at me while Ted would look more and more upset (though he was trying to hide it for our sake). She tried to cheer us up by transforming her nose into a pig snout. Harry laughed, but I couldn't help but yelp when she first transformed.

It was still a shock to see these things for me. At least now I would be in a world where I could adjust to it.

Once that was all over, Crouch took Ted into another room while Tonks stayed with us.

"You two are adorable," Tonks cooed, smiling at me and Harry.

Harry blushed and tried to hide behind me, but I gently untangled from him, saying, "It's okay Harry, she's nice." Hopefully he would be able to shed this crippling shyness in the near future.

"How are we related?" I asked curiously.

"Through my mother's cousin," Tonks responded with a fleeting look of hurt. I knew she was referring to Sirius. "He was your godfather."

I really, really had to do something about that rat. But what? Maybe if I made it clear I knew who he was...would that stop him from running? Was there guilt, anywhere inside him, for the thing that he did? I would definitely have to corner him.

Remus would recognize him.

"Is there anyone else?" I asked softly. "I'm very grateful to your mom and dad for taking us in, but I was wondering...did our parents have any other friends? My aunt and uncle – well, they said all sorts of stuff but they never mentioned any friends."

Tonks said something in another language that was likely in reference to the Dursleys and how badly they should die. "Well, your dad had a tight circle of friends that included your godfather. Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and...Remus Lupin." She looked like she had a little trouble remembering the last name, which made me giggle.

I wondered if a seven year old girl would be forgiven for playing matchmaker.

Ted and Crouch returned after a few minutes. Crouch asked if we had any belongings that we wanted to retrieve from either the Leaky Cauldron or the Dursley's house. When we shook our heads to the negative, Crouch told us that we would live with Ted and Andromeda.

Ted smiled reassuring at us. I tried to smile back, but I felt broken and hollow inside so it came out as more of a grimace. Never the less, I followed him out of the room and into the lower parts of the Ministry.

Tonks warded off the photographers and reporters while Ted brought us to the floo. I froze in terror when I saw someone consumed by fire before vanishing.

Ted gave me a concerned look, before saying, "It's okay Cassie. The fire doesn't hurt at all – it's a means of transportation." When I let out a pitiful squeak of fear, he took my hand and said, "Here, I'll stand with you so you know you're safe. Alright? Tonks, you take Harry right after us okay?"

"'Course, dad."

I nodded and let him pull me into the fireplace. I shut my eyes and buried my face in his side as Ted shouted his address and the fire erupted around us.

I expected it to be hot; imagine my surprise to discover it was cool and soothing. I felt as though I had been picked up and thrown, flying through the air. Then, when the fires disappeared Ted gently lead me into a bright yellow room where Andromeda was waiting for us.

Andromeda Tonks, nee Black, was very beautiful. While she did resemble her insane sister Bellatrix, her smile melted away any comparison.

"Hello Cassie, Harry" She said softly as Tonks and Harry appeared behind us. "Welcome to your new home."

I looked around. It actually surprised me – it looked somewhat like my dad's house, from back in my first life. Even as the memories of my first experience grew more faded compared to this new life, I could still see it clearly if I concentrated on it.

"It looks nice," I said after a moment of silence.

Andromeda chuckled a bit before moving over to examine me. I bit my cheek to swallow a grumble; she wasn't judging me, she knew that the Dursleys didn't like wasting hot water or money for new clothes on me or Harry. "How about you have a bath while Ted and I prepare your rooms?"

"We both get our own rooms?" Harry echoed, as though weighing an alien concept.

Ted frowned at this. I imagine Andromeda felt the same, because her continued smile looked a bit forced to me. "Of course, Harry." She handed the pair of us new pyjamas, muggle made thankfully. I cautiously ran my hands over mine; soft as felt.

"Thank you," I said softly. "Harry, you go bathe first." It was still my first instinct to care for Harry. I imagined it would stay that way for the forseeable future. He was family – and there was nothing more important then family.

"No, Cassie, you go first." Harry said, surprising me. "You've been working really hard; you need it more then me."

I was so taken aback that it took me a moment to register the lump growing in my throat. Unable to speak without bursting into tears (something I was not keen on, especially after my epic meltdown at the Leaky Cauldron), I just nodded and let Tonks show me upstairs.

"Want any help?" Tonks asked as I stepped inside the cool, white tiled room.

"No," I said a bit too quickly, before cursing myself over my rudeness. "I mean, no thank you. I'll be fine."

Part of the problem with me was I had it in my head that I needed to be able to do what I considered 'rudimentary' tasks entirely without aide, or else I was an embarrassment. Therefore, asking for help required swallowing my inexplicable pride.

No one was good at that.

Thankfully, Tonks wasn't the least bit perturbed by my bruskness and left me to bathe. I turned on the taps, letting it run lukewarm until the tub was almost full, stripped and slipped inside.

Let me tell you – feeling the glorious caress of water after nearly a week without a bath is a feeling without parallel.

As I rested and soaked, my mind began to wander back to my 'get through Hogwarts School with as little fanfare and murder as possible' schemes.

I considered getting a rooster for a pet, but those weren't exactly on the list of accepted pets. (yes, but neither were rats a voice in my head said, yet Percy and Ron went about their business just fine) I'd just have to squirrel away a few of Hagrid's chickens before whoever was possessed (provided I couldn't just frisk the diary away from Ginny after Lucius tried to plant it on her) killed them all in order to protect the basilisk from their caws.

But my most current plan included dealing with Pettigrew. After much thought and debilitation, I had concocted a scheme that might just work -

First, get Remus's acquaintance via pleading with Ted and Andromeda to meet some of our parents' friends for stories about them.

Second, somehow get in touch with the Weasleys. Befriend one of the children – doesn't matter who, and hopefully get invited over to the house.

Third, either get Remus to come with her and Harry to their new friends place, or frisk the rat and bring it back. If Sirius could recognize Peter from a grainy image on a newspaper after ten years in Azkaban, I couldn't see why Remus wouldn't be able to recognize him up front.

But how to deal with Quirrel? I didn't know if my mother's love protection extended to protecting me physically, because Harry was the one Voldemort had tried to kill first. I would like to think that her loving sacrifice protected me too, but if I couldn't be sure it wasn't worth risking an AK to the face to find out.

I sighed. I'd worry about him at school.

Now, the Tri-Wizard Tournament...that would be the devil of it. I wouldn't be quite old enough to enter instead even if I wanted to (which I didn't). Of course, that didn't rule out that Fake!Moody might rig my name in as well, because why hand your master one Potter when you can give him two? I dismissed trying to frisk his potion container, because Crouch Jr had successfully mimicked Moody's paranoia and I didn't fancy being turned into a ferret for any amount of time. Ugh. I wasn't sure how to handle that either.

At least I knew what to do with fifth year – draw Harry's attention to the damned mirror Sirius (hopefully) would give us. As long as we could contact him easily, there would be no running face first into any of Moldyshorts trap.

Though that didn't extend to how to handle the _pink thing from hell._ My plan for that was either getting myself suspended, or picking up pranking from Fred and George and trying to torment her into leaving. If Petunia Dursley was a demon, the _pink thing _was a female Lucifer, and I wouldn't wish her on my very worst enemies.

(except maybe Mouldyshorts. Those two ought to get along.)

Sixth year? Well, I couldn't predict how much my actions would change up until that point, but I at least had an idea of what Malfoy would do to try and kill Dumbledore. Hopefully that wouldn't result in me barking up the wrong tree.

As for the seventh year...well, perhaps I could press Dumbledore on the diary, or perhaps suggest I knew what it was. Either way, the horcruxes would be easier to destroy with an adult to help and back me up and having access to the sword of Gryffindor right away.

Except for the one in Harry's head.

My stomach twisted at the very thought of it.

No. I refuse to think about that right now. I'll jump that hurdle when I reach it. That's what I told myself, even if it was just a fancy way of saying _I really don't want to deal with that_.

Harry was all I had in this new world. He loved me and was the only one who did. The thought of me fucking something up so he couldn't return from the dead was so horrifying I thought I might stress vomit again.

I pulled my mind away from it. Right now, I just needed to begin executing the rat plan...after I had a proper night's rest.

/

Harry and I had rooms directly adjoining. They had been guest rooms originally – Ted Tonks was actually somewhat prolific in the nearby mundane world due to his work as a municipal lawyer. Harry's room was green while mine was a deep yellow.

I liked that colour. It made me feel warm and fuzzy.

"I don't sleep very well," I ventured as Andromeda came in and asked me how I liked everything. "Is there...I don't know...some kind of magic to help with that?"

Andromeda gave me a worried look. "I have a dreamless sleep potion, but you can't rely on those or you'll never be able to sleep normally without it..."

"Oh." I said, dispirited. I was hoping there would be an easy magical answer for my sleep troubles. Just another sign that magic has limits, I suppose.

"But there's no reason you can't have one tonight," Andromeda continued. My face must have lit up, because she smiled again. "I'll ask around at St Mugo's when I go to work tomorrow and see if there's anything that could help."

"Thank you," I said, my voice quivering.

"No worries, Cassie." Andromeda said warmly. "We're family...you never have to thank me for something like this."

My eyes watered and I had to blink tears away. Andromeda gently brushed my hair away when her fingers brushed against a scar on my cheek.

I had gotten it when Vernon had thrown a beer bottle in my direction. Thank god it hadn't hit me head on, but I hadn't escaped without injury.

"Does this still hurt?" She asked quietly.

The question was loaded, and I could tell even though I normally wasn't good at reading body language. She wanted to know if I had other scars from my interment with the Dursleys, possibly asking about Harry as well.

"No. Not anymore."

That was an utter baldfaced lie, I admit. They did still bother me. I did still feel like Vernon was hovering directly over my shoulder even though common sense dictated that he was gone from my life and facing a criminal trial for his mistreatment of me and Harry.

But I didn't know Andromeda. She was kind, but she was still a stranger, her Ted and Tonks. So I didn't feel comfortable telling her that. I didn't want her to know that I was still hurting.

Not yet.

Andromeda didn't look like she quite believed me, but she let the subject lie. She gave me a dreamless sleep potion and put me to bed.

It was the best sleep I had experienced in a long time.

**-Given-**

I was woken by Harry.

"C'mon Cassie, breakfast is ready!" He said excitedly. "There's so much food, you gotta come!"

"Go away, Harry..." I said sleepily. "I'm still tired..."

"But Cassie! There's two pancakes just for you!" Harry insisted. He started pulling on my arm, trying to haul me out of bed on his own. "Come _on_!"

Still drowsy but feeling more refreshed then ever before, I stumbled to my feet and let Harry pull me downstairs with a noncommittal grunt.

"Good morning!" Tonks said cheerfully as I slumped into my seat.

"It's morning now?" I asked vaugely.

Tonks ruffled my hair from where she was sitting yesterday. While I tried to hide it, the motion kicked my senses into gear – Dudley had often grabbed my hair and tried to pull it out, especially when he was younger. Besides, Tonks was nice and the motion felt different from Dudley's grabbing.

The scent of pancakes helped as well. I poured myself some milk and waited patiently for Harry to stop monopolizing the maple surup so I could have some too.

It was probably a good thing I hadn't had anything in my mouth. Because a minute later, Ted Tonks went to answer the door.

He came back with a short man with mousy brown hair – one who was very familiar to me, except for one veeery important detail. He had all his fingers.

"Harry, Cassie," Ted said brightly. "This is Peter Pettigrew, a good friend of your parents. He came to see how you're doing!"

I think I deserve a medal for managing not to scream.

**End Chapter**

**Surprised? Next chapter, watch me flail around wondering what the hell this means while Peter explains some things to me and Harry. Oh, and he has kids - twins my age. **

**Read and Review please!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Given**

**Tyene: I'm surprised you managed not to scream.**

**Wanda: I've gotten better at biting my tongue. It's painful, but it works. I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 5: Panic**

Peter Pettigrew was here. Sitting in front of me. Not hiding away as a rat. Not missing one of his fingers in a plan to frame Sirius for his murder.

Not hiding.

Not a rat.

Not the traitor.

Fuck.

Fuck.

_**FUCK.**_

I shoved a huge slice of pancake into my mouth to strangle out the next scream that tried to escape, waving my fingers in the man's general direction as my somewhat organized mind dissolved into chaos and noise like a car pileup at NASCAR. I could only thank the gods that Harry looked surprised and a little perturbed, so the sheer, unmigitated _panic _I was feeling right now wasn't immediately picked up on.

What the hell – what – why – _Peter didn't betray our parents!_

There couldn't be any other explanation. The Peter I read about was a complete and utter coward. If he had done the deed, he would not be walking around in public or visiting his friend's children – he would be hiding away as a rat, or behind some other mob boss's protective thumb. But here he was, sitting in front of me.

But – but what the fuck did that mean!? If he wasn't the traitor, who was!?

And – and _why wasn't it him!?_

I nearly choked when swallowing the mouthful, barely aware of Tonks chiding me for putting too much food in my mouth at once.

It was me. My presence here.

Back in my first life, I was a voracious reader of all genres. This facet of my personality stuck around, even at the Dursleys, since Dudley had never touched the bookshelf in his second bedroom at any point of our stay there. Neither Petunia nor Vernon approved, so I did it mostly in secret, but since Dudley didn't care about the books he didn't wail for his parents to beat me up if I borrowed one.

The point was, I had read multiple stories and played games that toyed with the concept of time travel and the possibility of alternate realities. Each one was slightly different from the rest, but some of them had a common theme – when the flow of time was disrupted by one event, the ripples caused by it would move on to affect the rest of the world around it.

By being reborn into this world, I hadn't just given Harry a protector from his shit tastic relatives. I had sent shock waves through the space-time continuum. I had changed the entire fabric of reality!

I hadn't thought of it that way before – I was hardly egotistical (or stupid) enough to think I could just stroll through this lifetime with people bending over to accommodate me every time I snapped my fingers and wanted something.

And it wasn't that I, specifically, had been brought into a world – it was that I was an _unknown element._

A theory of time travel goes that time is like a stream. Even if one attempted to go back and alter an event (so to say, throw a stone into the river), it wouldn't have long lasting effects – it would change things for a short moment, but then the current would right its course and continue the way it was always meant to.

The concept of alternate realities was similar, but with a catch – the thrown rock, the unknown variable, would cause changes to everything around it. The stream would alter itself somewhat to suit its new pathway, or new crossing. The general direction of the stream would stay the same – but it would be a different shape.

This included both events...and people, as I was now discovering.

"Harry...Cassie...look at how much you two have grown." Peter had a soft, willowy voice, completely unlike the man who had played him in the movies. It was almost sort of feminine. It didn't sound like the voice of someone who would sell you out, it sounded like a worried mother who's kid hadn't come home from school on time. "The last time I saw you, you were just two little babies."

He smiled at me. "You've become so beautiful, Cassie. You look just like your mother."

I took a gulp of milk, thought banging around my head like a demented pinball machine. "I didn't realize mom and dad had friends," I said. "Our aunt and uncle always said they were no-good layabouts who died after driving drunk."

Peter winced slightly. The tone of voice I used was more then a little waspish; Ted shot me a disapproving look.

Then...then Peter stands up, walks over to my seat and gently, awkwardly hugs me around my shoulders. The embrace was gentle, like he was tentatively picking up a glass doll that would shatter into a million pieces if he wasn't very careful.

I went utterly rigid, like a stake in the ground. All the noise in my brain died. A solid rock formed in my throat, even after Peter let go and moved over to give Harry a similar hug before giving both of us the saddest look I had ever seen on a human being.

"I'm sorry," He whispered. There was a glint at the corner of his eye, almost like a tear. "I am so, so sorry, _both _of you. I would have taken you – me or Remus both, we would have taken you. But...we were told no."

"Why?" The words leave my mouth, but they sound like they're coming from a million miles away. "How?"

Peter slowly sat down back into the chair Ted had brought for him, gazing beseechingly at me and my brother. "Even after the war was over...after J-James and Lily..." he looked down at his hands, which were now folded in his lap. "...there were still fanatics around, like Lestrange. After we thought Voldemort was gone...the Longbottoms, good family friends, were attacked. The Ministry, and Albus Dumbledore, decided this meant you couldn't stay in the Wizarding World anymore...it just wasn't safe."

"...and being locked in a cupboard and fed twice a week is_ safe_? Being locked in with someone who swings frying pans at you is _safe_? Then what the hell _do _you people consider safe, a rickety shack in the middle of the ocean surrounding by tiger sharks?"

That was a low blow and I knew it. I had just said that to hurt him when there were other things I could have asked. Harry gasped just to punctuate it.

My fingernails sank into my hands, I was being a bitch and I knew it but I had no idea how to react, to adapt to what I was seeing in front of me.

He was supposed to be the bad guy! Now nothing made sense!

Peter didn't look at me. "I didn't know," He said pleadingly. I rarely, if ever, heard adults talk to me like that – pleading for my forgiveness, my judgement. It was a bizarre sensation. "Would you believe me if I said I didn't know? Me and Remus, they didn't tell us where you had been placed. The Ministry thought we would have taken you away, regardless of the decision made. We looked, we begged for visitation rights, but Dumbledore said it was for the best that you remained unaware of us, of this world...to keep you safe, both from any remaining Death Eaters and those who would want to use your fame."

_I knew I was condemning you to ten dark, lonely years...a little thinner and hungrier then I hoped..._

I shut my eyes. The letter I had sent, the meltdown in front of the crowd, all felt extremely inadequate under this bit of information. We could have been raised by someone who gave a damn, but no.

"Why?" Harry asked, his eyes wide as saucers. "Why did it _have _to be them? Couldn't you have just, I don't know, magicked us so no one could find us?"

Peter smiled sadly at him. "You're parents tried to hide away under magic. It was supposed to be foolproof...Dumbledore, headmaster of our old school and one of the greatest wizards alive was the secret keeper, and Sirius had vowed to be a distraction, to lead Voldemort away from them...yet somehow it all went wrong..."

"Went wrong how?" I demanded, leaning forward and staring at him. Dumbledore was the keeper? What had changed?

"We don't know," Peter said helplessly. "The general public says that Sirius betrayed us somehow, that he used some sort of black magic trickery to pull the secret from Dumbledore and deliver it to the Dark Lord."

"Is that true?" I asked coldly. "Or is that just what people say when they want something to be over?"

Ted and Andromeda were both staring at me. I could feel it. "How could it have _possibly _been Padfoot?" I asked, laying it on a bit thick. "I remember Padfoot a bit, he let me ride on his back and would tickle me whenever I got sad. I can't believe...I don't believe that."

"I'm sorry Cassie, I don't know what to tell you." Peter shook his head. "Remus and I, we weren't given any details of the case Crouch had put together. Several aurors witnessed a confession, he said...Sirius laughing madly while ranting that James and Lily were dead."

Coldness seeped into my bones, like I'd been bathed in ice.

Was Sirius guilty, then? That certainly sounded damning...but it also could have been heard out of context, with Sirius mad with grief. Plus, Crouch was a man who wasn't above throwing his own son under a bus after neglecting him all his life, throwing people in jail on the mere suspicion of death eater alliance without the curtsey of a trial...

"So that's why you never came round?" I asked eventually. "'Cause you weren't supposed to?"

Peter reached out and placed his hand on mine. In a knee jerk reaction, I pulled away. A look of hurt flashed through his eyes, something raw and genuine.

"I'm sorry," He repeated, eyes definitely glistening. "If I had known...those abominable people...if I had known, I would have taken you and left the moment I found you. I am so sorry you had to go through all that pain when I thought you were safe."

Another lump formed in my throat and I opted to stare down at the now cold remains of my pancake. Harry spoke for me instead.

"It's okay, Peter." He said, reaching out and hugging the older man's arm. "You didn't know."

I didn't say anything. Neither a rejection or an acceptance. Peter doesn't push me for either, and I'm grateful for that. It wasn't just the panic of something I thought I had known being pulled out from under me, I realized.

I was bitter that I had been forced to live with the Dursleys. I was lashing out.

I didn't know how to feel and I had seven years of a grotesque amalgamation of rage, bitterness, fear and despair gnawing away at my heart. I had explosive accidental magic to prove it.

"Do you want to meet my children?"

I took another gulp of milk right after Peter said that, so I had an excuse to make a weird face. _Fucking hell, would you slow down with the informational _nukes_!? _

My head. My poor head.

"You have children?" Harry asked excitedly.

That did it. Whatever entity gave me this second life also hated my guts.

"Tessie and Lily are twins, James is the oldest. He's already going to Hogwarts, but Tessie and Lily should be going at the same time as you, Cassie. They're quite excited to meet you."

"Are they here now?" I asked numbly. _Please say no. I've had enough surprises for one day._

"No...but I thought I would bring them over this afternoon, if that's alright with you Ted."

_Please say no. Please say no._

"I think that sounds wonderful, Peter." Andromeda said. "It would be good for Harry and Cassie to get to meet some children who aren't selfish bullies."

I was extremely tempted to say _I don't wanna!_, in my absolute whiniest voice. I didn't want to deal with this, I wanted go to straight back to my room and scream into my pillow until I lost my voice.

What the hell was I going to do now?

**End of Chapter**

**Next time, I meet those who will essentially be my golden trio, being that I will go to Hogwarts before Harry in lieu of being the older sibling. And we too shall find inventive ways to almost die thanks to a certain unwelcome spectre and the severely declining standards of Hogwarts student safety protocols.**

**Read and Review please!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Given**

**Tyene: ...when are you even going to GET to Hogwarts?**

**Wanda: (deadpan) I'm eight, and I'm in no rush to get to the place where breaking curfew gets you sent into a forest full of bloodthirsty and dangerous monsters and stuff. I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 6: We Warriors Three**

Lily and Tessie Pettigrew had little in common with their namesakes.

Lily was shy, self deprecating but possessed a core of steel if stomped on one too many times – one of our many encounters with reporters around the house had taught me that much. She took after her mother Vera; Peter's wife. She had dark red hair and darker blue eyes, giving her a permanently tired and serious look. She was naturally skinny and pale, too – she looked like the kind of girl who spent most of her life inside.

Tessie was her twin, and entirely more energetic. Her mood swings were difficult to master – one minute she'd be brimming with energy, then she'd be depressed because she thought she had said something wrong, then she'd be full of righteous indignation over a different subject entirely. Keeping up with her was an examination in patience; often I just sat down and let her run out of steam before I I could get a few sentences in. She looked stronger then Lily, with heather brown hair and a stronger built – the only thing she and Lily seemed to have in common was their eyes.

I wouldn't meet James until summer, but according to Lily he was brash, bullheaded and constantly in trouble. On that description, I was rather glad I didn't have to deal with him yet.

Lily and Tessie came over the same afternoon I had met Peter. Thankfully, they had tutoring in the morning so I had an opportunity to run into my room and scream like a maniac into my pillow.

Only once I had exorcized a fair chunk of the panic and confusion I had felt did I venture back downstairs. Harry looked at my funny and asked why I had run, to which I brushed off with a 'reading' explanation.

_I do love it when excuses are handed to me on a platter...especially since I have a lot of work to do before I get to Hogwarts. Occlumency, basic charms, basic duelling...I can't afford to step into that death trap underprepared. Andromeda's bound to have some books I can dig into, and even then I could ask to go out to Diagon Alley to buy some._

Just after 12:00, once all the dishes had been put in the sink to wash themselves (have I ever mentioned I love magic? I never have put up with the tedium of chores ever again!) the door rang. Andromeda let out an exclamation of surprise, "They're here early!", and went to open the door.

I took a deep breath and followed her, Harry at my side. _Relax, they don't know why their mere existence freaks you out...who knows, maybe they'll be friendly. Besides, panicking won't change anything and is useless in the long run...I just have to understand the changes and adapt to them...starting now._

Tessie bounded in first, beaming and looking excited in the way only a fellow seven soon-to-be eight year old could. She was dressed in muggle clothes. _So either Vera is a muggleborn or a muggle. Hm, that may be part of the reason Peter didn't go death eater – can't exactly show up at the meetings with your muggle wife without any sense of irony. _

Lily trailed after her. She looked far more nervous, a look that only escalated when she actually saw me and Harry appear from around the corner.

Peter followed them in and said, "Tessie, Lily, these are your cousins Harry and Cassie. Say hello!"

_Cousins? I didn't think...well, the Blacks were pretty much related to everyone, I suppose it wouldn't be _too _surprising...and James, Remus, Sirius and Peter were described in the books as brothers in all but blood, so I suppose he would introduce us that way anyhow._

"Hello," Harry said shyly.

"Hello Harry!" Tessie said exuberantly, walking forward, taking his hand and shaking his whole body. She leaned in and stared at his scar for a moment before saying, "It's smaller then the books said."

"Wait, what?" I demanded. "Books? What books?"

Tessie laughed, "Don't you know? You're famous, you've got all sorts of books chronicling your grand deeds."

I stared at her for a moment before putting my face in my hands and groaning. Loudly. God damn it, I had been hoping that was just a crazy overexaggeration of shameless wizarding culture in fanfiction! There were actual, saccharine and _illegal _books printed about me and my brother slaying dragons or whatever ridiculous things I read about?

God, Merlin, whoever's up there – if something isn't done about this, I'm going to kill a man. And I don't know if I'll stop there.

"Just my fri-freakin luck." It was difficult to keep myself from swearing around Harry or Andromeda. Even though I was nearly eight now I still had the teenaged habit of swearing like a sailor whenever something bothered me.

"You...you don't like that?" Lily asked uncertainly. Well, points for getting her to talk I guess; she'd just been standing there looking petrified while Tessie gave Harry a once over. (not in that way, for gods sake).

"Are you kidding? Someone's selling children's books about stuff neither of us have done, and we haven't seen a single penny of it?" I enquired unhappily. "Of course I don't like that. It's _embarrassing_."

Harry frowned. "Why would we get money for that Cassie?"

Right. Don't talk like an adult. Talk like a kid. "Because they're talking about _us_, Harry." I said, glancing at him. "They're swindling people out of their money using our names without consulting us."

Tessie grinned. "I like you. It's a botch job, isn't it? I mean, if you're going to tell lies, tell lies that no one can refute."

"Tessie...!" Lily moaned, looking scandalized.

I pointed a finger at her. "Exactly. I mean, they'll be looking pretty stupid when I show up at Hogwarts without the dragonscale cloaks or whatever from our 'grand adventures'." I mimed air quotes at that last bit.

Tessie giggled mischievously while Lily just looked more nervous. I decided to just plunge in and said, "Hey, why are we all standing around here? Let's head up to my room and talk."

/

Harry left us alone after not too long. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised; it was standard procedure for a boy his age to be _totally grossed out _when hanging around with more then one female. There were few exceptions – though my first real friend had been a boy. Then again, by all accounts I had never been a 'normal' girl.

Considering Harry's original friendship with Hermione was based off the fact that she was nearly killed by a troll, I'm not surprised he didn't feel comfortable hanging out with us just yet. Hopefully he would mature faster until he didn't mind.

Anyway, Lily was still trailing behind Tessie as we entered my brightly lit room. My window was an excellent sun catcher; it made my room feel warmer. "Sit down," I offered, gesturing to my bed. "I don't bite," I added.

Lily flushed at that, but she did finally enter the room and sit on the edge of my bed. I tried to smile welcomingly as I sat next to her while Tessie simply plopped down on the rug.

"What do you do for fun?" Tessie asked without preamble.

"I read," I said with a shrug, gesturing around my room. While it was not yet previous life levels of bookery – in my old rooms, I had three shelves packed full of books with the top rows roped off for stuffed animals. And that didn't even count the piles of books that usually accumulated on the floor when I read in bed and was far too comfortable to put them back on the shelf. However, I did have a growing pile of literature here – something I intended to expand upon. "A lot," I added.

It felt so good to have a copy of Lord of the Rings again. My oldest friend...

Tessie didn't seem _entirely _pleased at this revelation, but Lily perked up a bit. "I like reading too," She said. Her voice was quiet and had the same willowy quality as her father – I had an inkling that she would grow up to be a heart breaker.

"What's your favourite book?" I asked curiously.

"Watership Down," Lily confessed, which caused me to do a mild double-take. Somehow, a story in which rabbits died many violent and gruesome deaths didn't seem like the kind of book Lily should like very much at all.

Appearances are deceiving indeed.

"I haven't read that yet. Have you opened Lord of the Rings?" I asked.

Lily shook her head. "Not yet. Mum says its kinda scary and deep."

_And frickin Watership Down isn't?_

"I like playing Quidditch with James," Tessie said. "Have you been on a broom yet?"

I shook my head. I hadn't, obviously thanks to Vernon, and I very much intended to keep it that way. The only way I felt comfortable up in the air was if I was entirely surrounded by either an airplane or an all encompassing seat.

Roller coasters were not a thing for me and Quidditch was basically the Behemoth without any safety precautions. No thank you.

"I'm acrophobic." I said by way of explanation.

"That's too bad," Tessie said in disappointment. "Does Harry like it?"

"He hasn't flown yet either, but I think he would." At least, unless that was different too. Grr, if only there was some sort of comprehensible way for me to check and see what had changed in the world. If the point of change was my birth – back in 1979 – it stood to reason that only things after that changed. So at least everything involving Riddle should be the same...but what else would be different?

I shook my head slightly. I couldn't think about that right now.

"How about we go out to the park?" Tessie suggested, her knees bouncing as she tried to contain her energy. "There's one just down at the end of the street!"

Would you look at that...there was a small park near my mom's house too. A small flame of comfort surged up in my chest and I nodded in agreement.

/

The air rushed around my face as I swept forward on the swing. Tessie was laughing as she swept along next to me, while Lily was silent but smiling. Peter and Ted sat nearby watching us, chatting easily in the late afternoon light, while Harry played in the sand nearby.

I let out a light chuckle myself, feeling as though all responsibilities and fears had been lifted from my shoulders. For the first time in years, I actually felt like a kid – I felt free, like I could leap off this swing and fly away on golden wings.

At some point, Ted apparently got called by someone, so he and Peter had to run off for a minute. Lily had climbed off the swing and moved to the equipment.

I was moving to join her when I saw a glittery blue beetle sitting in the sand. A familiar blue beetle, something far too exotic to be native to Britain.

_Oh dear god, please, _no_. Not her. Not right now. Please. I'm _literally _begging you._

Somewhere, the mysterious being responsible for my translation was laughing his/her/its ass off.

Sure enough, when I turned away and sat down next to Lily, a high pitched female voice said, "Why, if it isn't the lovely Cassie Potter, what a surprise!"

With growing dread, I turned my head to the right. Standing tall on obscene high heels with enough makeup to make a Capital citizen jealous was Rita fucking Skeeter, a hovering pad and a floating blue quill hovering just next to her ear.

_...I hate you too, universe._

"Who're you?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Rita Skeeter of the Daily Prophet. It's a wonder to meet you! I was hoping you had a few moments to answer my questions."

"Go away."

Before I even had a chance to say anything, to blink, anything – Lily had spoken up. The small, skinny girl stood up tall as a giant and regarded Skeeter really coldly.

"I remember you. You wrote that paper calling dad a traitor and coward after Cassie's parents deaths." Lily said slowly. "You wrote the paper calling mother a gold digger. You wrote the paper about Auntie Andromeda's marriage that caused her to get disowned. Now you want to use Cassie and Harry's horrible time with their parents to sell a few papers."

Her fists clenched. "You're a parasite, Skeeter. Go _away, _or I'm telling dad you _touched _me to get me to talk."

I stared dumbly at her as Rita turned all sorts of interesting colours before walking off in a huff. Once she was gone, Lily sort of crumpled into herself as if her sudden spurt of energy had failed her. Tessie came running over a second later.

"Is she gone?" She demanded. Lily nodded slowly. "Man! _I _wanted to yell at her."

"I..." A fantastic display of my large vocabulary, I know. "I..."

"I'm sorry about that," Lily said very very quietly. "I didn't mean to get bad...she's just..."

"A horrible, _horrible _woman?" Tessie suggested scathingly. "Yes, yes she is. She makes her living off of telling lies about people." Giving me a worried and angry look, she went on, "She was probably talking to you because she wanted to stir up controversy by writing a 'tell-all' about the Dursleys."

I shuddered. "I don't even want to _think _about that. I loath tabloid reporters more then anything else that _walks_."

"That makes all of us." Lily sighed.

"Thank you. For that." I said, looking between them. "Thank you for making her leave me alone."

Tessie actually smiled at this. "You're welcome," she said. "We read in the real papers about the Dursleys. I think you're really brave – you've had to be strong for Harry all this time and you're still nice to us. We'd like to be there for you, so you don't have to be strong on your own anymore."

Again. I had no idea what to say to that. And suddenly I was crying, unbidden – again. Lily and Tessie both hugged me, Lily calling for Peter in distress while I hung onto them for all I was worth.

I was _tired _of being strong. I had taken everything stoically at the Dursleys, trying to keep Harry as safe and happy as possible. Breaking down had never been an option; it would just open me up to more ridicule and more scorn.

But now I was safe. I didn't have to hide it all away.

Despite the fact it changed so much about my future, I was glad that Peter was innocent. I couldn't imagine now not having someone else to hold me up when I couldn't stand anymore.

From that point on, Tessie and Lily Pettigrew were my closest and dearest friends.

**End Chapter**

**I hope this introduces both Tessie and Lily effectively - James comes later, along with another surprise guest star to throw me for a goddamn loop. I'm probably going to need migraine pills by the time I'm in my third year.**

**Read and Review please!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Given**

**Tyene: You'd live in your bedroom if you were allowed to, wouldn't you?**

**Wanda: (primly) Every writer needs a good environment to overcome bouts of writer's block. I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 7: Pacing**

I had never been in much real danger in my previous life.

I mean, technically everyone is in danger every day – any day I could be innocently stepping out to cross the street when some idiot would miss the breaks and run me over, or I could be hanging out in a mall plaza when nutcases with guns come out and start yelling at us to get on the ground. But any implicit danger lies under the surface; you feel safe going to school, going to work, going outside your house. You can sleep easily without looking out your window. You don't watch your neighbours coming and going wondering what they think of if they might turn on you.

This world wasn't like that.

Or, at least, my paranoia refused to see it that way.

Either way, I had never been much of an outdoors person. I mean, I enjoyed sitting in the park and enjoying the sun, or playing in the snow, but only close to home. I didn't enjoy sports – I always seemed to be slower and more clumsy then any of the competition. I didn't really enjoy going places or long walks the way other people did. I much preferred to remain home, playing games, reading or writing.

Harry liked to play outside. He talked to the neighbourhood kids with some prompting and let Ted show him how to ride a broomstick. All in all, he looked far more at ease then he ever had before.

Seven months into our life with the Tonks family, I spent virtually all of it walled up in my bedroom, doing nothing but reading.

Lily and Tessie were my only social contacts; in the neighbourhood I was a loner and snapped at anyone who tried to talk to me about anything pertaining to my last name.

I was determined to prepare myself for all the nightmares I imagined were waiting right outside our door. And if that meant being considered a freakish introverted loner?

Whatever. That was exactly how I was frequently described in my previous life.

As luck would have it, Andromeda and Tonks did have books on magic theory, including Occlumency. That was the first thing I wanted to master; even if the information inside my head wasn't one hundred percent accurate I couldn't afford to let anyone else know it. Aside from that, I utterly loathed the idea of someone being able to casually waltz straight through my innermost thoughts without my knowledge or permission. And there were _two _Legitimancy users at Hogwarts, not to mention any highly skilled auror would probably possess it.

And Voldemort.

And some of his cronies, no doubt.

Can't forget about them.

I rarely left my room in those first few months. Ted and Andromeda didn't contest it at first, but I suppose after a while they started to worry about me – they probably thought I was shutting the whole world out as some sort of response to the Dursley's abuse. Which was partially true, I guess, but mostly I just wanted to hit the ground running.

Unfortunately, Ted wasn't about to let me spend my entire pre Hogwarts life in my bedroom. So one day, he knocked on my door and asked me (in one of those voices that made it clear the answer was rhetorical) if I'd like to go to Diagon Alley with Lily and Tessie.

"Do I have to?" I asked, closing my Basic Transfiguration book in frustration. I wanted to be able to at least transfigure a button before I went to school.

"It'll be fun, Cassie, and your two best friends will be there. You need to get out more," Ted said firmly. I bit my lip and followed him outside.

/

"I love Florence's!" Tessie cheered as she finished off her ice cream.

"It's not so bad," I conceded, delicately taking another mouthful of my scoop of mint chip flavoured sundae. I expected it to be different from what was used to, but surprisingly wizard sundaes didn't taste odder then mundane ice cream. This was nicer then spending the entire day reading – not that I was about to admit that.

"Harry, aren't you going to finish that?" Lily asked my little brother in concern.

Harry, who was staring somewhat sadly at his melting cup, mumbled, "I dunno...I don't feel so good."

Tessie frowned and elbowed me in the ribs. I choked back a swear word and glared at her; her only reaction was to jerk her head in Harry's direction. Rubbing my side and muttering under my breath, I stood up and moved over to Harry's side.

"What's the matter, Harry?" I asked quietly.

Harry stared down at his hands for a moment. Tessie abruptly said something about wanting a refill and promptly dragged Lily to the counter, very obviously out of earshot of our conversation.

Real subtle there, Tessie. But thanks.

Harry stared down at his hands for a moment before blurting you, "Do you not need me anymore, Cassie?"

My head jerked back like I had been slapped. "What?"

"Well...y-you don't play with me much anymore," Harry said sadly. "You spend all your time in your room...and when you do come out, you're always playing with Lily and Tessie. I'm sorry, I know you must be tired of taking care of me-"

"Stop. STOP."

Oh, fuck my life.

How had I not noticed this was bothering Harry?

I couldn't believe it. I was so mad at myself. How did I not notice this? A year ago, I would have noticed if he was just hiding a bruise...! Was I _that_ detached from reality in my quest to prepare myself for the future?

"Harry, don't be stupid." I pulled him into the fiercest, most loving hug I could imagine. Harry squeaked under the pressure.

"I never stopped caring about you. I just have a lot on my mind. I'm still your big sister and I'll always take care of you." To add emphasis, I kissed him on the top of his head. "Lily and Tessie are my friends, but they can't replace you. No one can."

Harry squirmed in my arms and looked up at me. "Do you promise?"

"I promise," I said, brushing his wild hair away from his face.

Harry cracked a smile and hugged me.

"Good you got that sorted out!" Tessie's voice snapped both of us out of our family moment. The brown haired girl cheerfully shoved a second large mint chip sundae into my hands and teasingly said, "Share, Cassie!"

I stuck my tongue out at her and handed it to Harry. "Here you go, Harry – your other one is melted."

Harry beamed and dug in.

"Lily wants to duck over to the bookstore. Gonna come, Cassie?" Tessie asked me as Peter chastized Harry for getting ice cream all over his face.

I laughed. "Is that a trick question?" I responded. "Is that okay, uncle Peter?"

After some time getting to know him...I felt more comfortable calling Peter that. Hell, I even started referring to him by his first name in my head after he organized Harry's birthday party to simultaneously give Harry the best day ever and fend of the inevitable swarm of paparazzi who stalked us every time we set foot in a public area. Yeah, Rita wasn't the only one.

And...and I think I got to know Peter a bit better. Peter had struggled with low self esteem his entire life. Even when James – my father – Sirius and Remus had befriended him, he often felt inferior beside them since he was less talented and less magically powerful. And that was before you factored in that James was far from the most empathetic and considerate individual for the better part of his life.

Lily whipped that out of him after they started dating, but before that he had often been quite cruel and mocking towards Peter. It's tough to stay strong when you think that even your best friends consider you a joke.

Maybe Peter still would have made the choice he had as I remembered, if he had been trusted with the secret.

Maybe...if he hadn't met Vera Hawthorne.

She was a muggleborn student, one who had been more worried about protecting her family from the death eaters then getting sucked into a violent and brutal conflict, one she didn't believe would end in justice.

Vera had a heart of gold. She didn't care that Peter was weak compared to his friends. She didn't care that he often ran into trouble.

She cussed out James in English and Japanese in front of all his fellow Aurors when he threw one condescending remark too many in Peter's direction. The humiliation was so epic that James had to fight Voldemort twice to regain their respect.

Vera was kind. But she wasn't weak.

Her love gave Peter strength that he hadn't possessed before. So he had never fallen to Voldemort's promises of power and security.

So I felt more comfortable around Peter. I couldn't say I loved him yet – not like Harry. I wasn't sure what I thought of him. But the feeling of fear and resentment when I saw him was gone.

Tessie and I hurtled across the street into the book store.

To my complete surprise, Lily was actually talking to someone! Usually, Tessie had to shove her into the limelight to get her to do anything but squeak and hide behind her hair.

It was another girl our age – at least, that was as near as I could estimate. She was tall and willowy looking. Her skin was pale as the moon, her hair black as night. Lily waved to us, causing her to turn around. Her dark eyes had a cool and reserved look to them. She was wearing robes, so either she was a pureblood or a half blood who grew up exclusively in the wizarding world – I was yet to meet someone who enjoyed wearing the school or dress robes.

"Hi," Lily said nervously, "Altair, this is my sister Tessie and my friend, Cassie."

_Altair? _Second point to potential pureblood. That wasn't a common name.

"Hello," Altair said cautiously.

"Hi," Tessie said brightly. "Are you going to Hogwarts?"

Altair grimaced and gripped her sleeve. "Grandfather wanted to send me to Drumstrang, but it was... negotiated that I would go to Hogwarts." She said after a moment.

"We're going as a group." I said in an attempt to be friendly. "I'm nine...how old are you?"

"Ten," Altair responded uncertainly. "I just...happened across Lily. We have a shared interest in history."

I gave Lily a funny look. "Lilyyyyy, why didn't you say so? I've spent all this time thinking I was a weirdo for reading history textbooks in my spare time!"

I hoped that would lighten the atmosphere. Lily flushed, but Altair actually relaxed a bit at that. Score one for my social interaction!

"That's...that's nice," Altair said, straightening up a bit. "What have you read about-"

"Altair Black."

I hadn't noticed that someone had come up behind us, so the voice nearly made me jump out of my skin. Not just because it surprised me – it was old, rasping and full of malice.

Altair's reaction was instantaneous. Her whole body went rigid and fear flashed through her eyes. We all turned around to see the source.

He was an old man, but he wasn't withered or bent over. He stood tall and proud, his eyes colder then ice and his voice utterly unwelcoming.

_Wait a minute...Altair _Black? _Holy shit, if that means what I think it does...!_

"Why are you speaking with the Potter girl and the blood traitors?" The man asked simply.

Tessie bristled. "Oh, piss off, bastard."

I'm honestly surprised Tessie didn't turn tail and run from the sheer force of the glare that old man sent her.

"Know your place, whorespawn." He spat. I gaped at him; even Vernon hadn't said things like that aloud in public places. "The one good thing that came out of my niece running off with that filthy muggle is that I do not have to acknowledge your kind as family."

Orion Black turned his cold eyes upon Altair and said, "You are never to associate yourself with these kind again, Altair. We are their betters, not their equals."

Altair flinched, though she tried hard to hide it. "O...Of course...grandfather..." Slowly, she walked over to his side with her eyes steadily locked on her shoes.

Satisfied at her response, Orion looked upon me. "Cassie Potter...what was so special about you and your brother, that _you _struck down one of the greatest wizards I have ever known?"

Maybe I shouldn't have said anything – I mean, I knew the implications about the power the House of Black wielded within the wizarding world, even if they didn't necessarily deserve it. However, when I was mad I had trouble controlling my mouth.

"If the 'greatest wizard you ever knew' was an inbred, incompetent fuck who got his ass killed by a one year old baby who couldn't even use a wand, I have trouble taking that very seriously." I retorted.

Lily sputtered. Tessie grinned and clapped my shoulder.

Orion turned red. He didn't say anything, but he turned around and walked off.

Altair cast a look at his before rushing to follow him. It was a sad and hopeless look, like someone who had just had a lifeline torn away from them.

Sirius would be heartbroken if he knew his wretched father had been given custody of his daughter.

**End Chapter**

**Okay, that's the last surprise kid for this story. (At least, who didn't exist in canon.) But I'm going to very much enjoy writing Altair. Next time, there's an altercation involving one of Moldyshourt's fanatics and a time skip.**

**Read and Review please!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Given**

**Tyene: ...Huh. I suppose that's one way to go about it.**

**Wanda: I thought I had enough to worry about...so that clearly wasn't enough. I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 8: Normalizing**

Trying to live in two worlds at once is hard.

Even as the months ticked by I often found myself feeling like I was standing on one side of a glass window, looking in at the world – not a part of it. I saw everything through the lens of the future, everything looked like a threat.

It got tiring after a while, feeling the weight of that on your shoulder; that dozens if not hundreds would die if you let things unfold as you knew they would.

Thank god for Occlumency lessons.

No one can really master Occlumency if they couldn't master their mind. It has more in common with yoga or meditation than most magic I was familiar with. It's a lot harder then it sounds – being able to control their thoughts. And even from the beginning, my mind was far from the most organized. Thoughts raced back and forth, like a pinball machine-shaped racecar track.

Yeah, laugh it up, that was the best way I could describe it.

I relied on a mantra to clear my mind. I stood next to my window on the morning of my tenth birthday, casting a wary glance at my calendar.

One year to Hogwarts.

"What about us, isn't it enough, no we're not in paradise..." I whispered, clutching the amethyst stone necklace Ted had given me for my ninth birthday.

The other problem with growing up in the nineties was that half the songs I had used to listen to day in and day out didn't exist yet. I remembered how most of them went thanks to their omnipresence in my last life, but to be honest I found it kind of tough to not be able to listen to them as usual.

"This is who we are, this is what we have, no its not a paradise."

This was my world now. It wasn't a paradise – I couldn't say if there was any place on earth that was. But Harry was here, Tessie and Lily and Tonks were here. So it would have to do.

"But it's all we want, and it's all that we're fighting for...though its not paradise..."

It could become a good place. Humans weren't incapable of change; history proved as much. Even old evils could be washed away as we stepped towards the future. As long as there were people prepared to fight for change and for the right to live.

I let the last note hang for a moment before feeling much more cleansed.

Uncle Peter and the girls would be here soon, I should get ready.

/

"Happy Birthday Cassie!" Lily said with her trademark nervous smile while Tessie forsook formalities to run into my arms and hug me. I laughed and patted her on the back as Peter, Vera and James walked inside.

James was tall and well built; out of all the siblings he looked the most like Peter. He gave me a wry half smile as he stepped in; something told me that being at my party wasn't at the top of his 'to do' list for today. Like Lily and Tessie, he was dressed in casual muggle clothes – leather pants and a loose orange shirt.

Vera was a head taller then Peter, something that had surprised me when I first saw her. Despite her intimidating size, she looked very friendly.

"Happy Birthday, Cassie." She said warmly, handing me a book-shaped present. I accepted with a smile and thanked her. "Hello, Harry." She added when my younger brother finally stuck his head out from around the corner.

"Hi aunt Vera," Harry said, glancing over his shoulder. When Tonks yelled, 'I've got it, don't worry!', he emerged fully from the kitchen to join us.

Living with the Tonks family had done wonders for his self esteem – that, and it was kind of hard to remain shy around Tessie. It took some time, but now my little brother was much more relaxed and less nervous.

He'd matured emotionally a lot over the past three years. I was proud of him. And secretly, I was glad – I had spent a lot of nights worrying that Vernon and Petunia had done him permanent harm, that he would never become a happy, well adjusted young man.

James immediately shouldered past Lily and strode over to Harry. "Quidditch match?" He offered. Harry grinned and the two of them raced for the backdoor.

Tessie made a production of rolling her eyes. "Boys," She grumbled. I just snickered; Harry and James had gotten along like a house on fire once the older boy had introduced him to Quidditch.

Then dad – Ted – had bought him a Numbus 500. It was a precursor to the 2000nd, but Harry made it look like the fastest broom in existence as he spent the afternoon hurtling around the airspace in our spacious back yard in a mildly insane manner.

To be honest, it was probably a good thing I introduced him to James. I was like Neville in the fact that I much preferred to keep both my feet safely on the ground, but I didn't want to disappoint Harry by not playing his favourite game with him.

Tonks liked Quidditch too, but she was only around so often now that she was finishing up her year at Hogwarts and had applied for auror training, leaving me and Tessie as the sole other applicants in the area. So James's appearance really helped me dodge a bullet there.

My cake had dancing toppers. I can't explain how funny it was to see them – they would run away whenever I tried to blow the candles out. It was kind of cute, to be honest.

"Are you really getting your wand today?" Lily asked during dessert that day. I smiled; Andromeda had broken the news to me that morning, calling it my present from her.

I'm not going to lie – I was extremely excited. Despite all my anxieties, the idea of being able to preform magic washed it all away. I had never been a huge fan of science, even conceptually thanks to the scientist's passive-aggressive need to have an explanation for _everything._ So the idea of being able to violate every law of physics with the flick of a wrist was extremely appealing.

Plus, I wanted to be able to transform into a lynx. I don't know why, but that animal just appealed to me. Or perhaps a white wolf – always thought they were graceful and beautiful to behold. Either way, I wanted to be an animagus.

I hadn't told uncle Peter yet; given the history I wasn't sure if he would approve or want to keep me from treading a similar path to my 'father'. (for all the time I spent here, I still had difficultly considering James my 'father'. I don't know why.)

Privately, I hoped that he would be willing to help me transform.

"Yes." I said with a smile. "Harry was a little upset he wasn't getting his too now as opposed to next year."

"Poor thing," Lily said sympathetically.

"Are you excited?" Tessie demanded.

I laughed a bit, "How could I not be?" I asked, leaning back against my chair. Andromeda, I decided, made a mean chocolate cake. "To be hones though, I'm also kind of nervous. Does it make a difference what _kind _of wand I get?"

In the back of my mind, an image of Harry and Voldemort's wands sitting side by side flashed by. I pushed it aside. _"all and all, you'd expect the wise to be wiser..._" I wouldn't let that ruin this moment for me – without reason, at least.

"I don't think so," Lily said thoughtfully. "The wand chooses the wizard, they say...well, witch, in our cases. To get a bad wand, you'd have to be a bad person to begin with."

_There's a chance that could be argued about me, Lily. If you knew what I knew._

I took a drink of apple juice before saying, "What about you two? You haven't thought about getting your wands?"

Tessie rolled her eyes in an amused sort of way, like I was asking an adrenaline junkie if they liked roller coasters. "Of course, Cassie! I just tend not to worry about silly things at the same time."

I kicked her under the table, even as I let out a reluctant laugh at the joke. _Again, if only they knew. I wonder...is there any way I could truly tell them this? I suppose I could put the memories in a pensieve...How would they feel if they knew? About me?_

That thought scared me almost as much as the thought of Voldemort. I couldn't predict how anyone would react to that...I just knew I had to keep this information as close to my chest as possible. Just in case.

"Are you girls almost done?" Andromeda's voice floated from the kitchen. Ted was out at work at the moment – he had a high profile case drop into his lap last notice, Phoenix Wright style, so he had rushed out of the house in the morning after a quick apology to me for missing my party. So Andromeda was the one in charge of taking me to Diagon Alley.

"Yes," We said collectively; privately I was glad that conversation was over. Andromeda charmed our plates to hover into the kitchen and wash themselves while we headed back towards the door to get our shoes on.

Peter said he would keep an eye on Harry and James while we were out – probably to make sure they didn't break any more windows like the last time the Pettigrews were over.

With that, we were off.

/

Now that Harry and I made semi-regular appearances in Diagon Alley, we weren't quite treated as circus show anymore, though that's not to say we weren't irritatingly stalked or followed around whenever we went into a public place. I suppose the novelty of our dramatic return to the Wizarding World, followed by the Dursleys internment in Azkaban, had worn off a bit.

To be honest, I was grateful for it – no matter what certain Hogwarts Professors might think.

Ollivanders was a quiet shop at the edge of Diagon Alley. Andromeda walked up to the door and opened it, encouraging me to walk in.

"I have to grab something from the bookstore," Andromeda said, though she was smiling in a way that made me think she was hiding something, "Just get your wand and wait for me here, okay?" Once she had given me the money necessary, she disappeared into the crowd.

After a moment, now that I was alone, I took a deep breath and entered Ollivander's.

I couldn't help but feel a little bit wary as I stepped inside. There was a low hum of...some sort of energy inside the shop, something that made me feel tense and uncertain. Was it danger?

I rubbed my shoulders and tentatively called out, "Hello?"

There was a short pause before an old man suddenly emerged from the stacks, staring down at me. He must be Ollivander; he had wispy white hair and glasses, generally he looked exactly as I had expected him to.

"Cassie Potter," He said, in that annoying way that everyone around here did – saying my full name, as if they new everything about me just because of the whole Potter-children-who-lived bullocks they had been fed ever since Voldemort's downfall. "Welcome. I wasn't expecting to see you until next year."

"My guardians thought that I should have some experience with a wand before I went to Hogwarts," I responded neutrally, looking around the room. "Where...where should I start?"

Well, it didn't go as smoothly as I had hoped or expected.

The first wand – gryffon feather – caused me to set half the shelf next to me on fire. I jerked back and dropped the wand, half expecting to be set ablaze myself, but it clattered down harmlessly.

The second one – I can't remember what the special part was – caused all the lamps to explode. I cringed, grateful that Ollivander seemed to expect this sort of thing. I'm pretty sure any other store owner would have demanded I pay for everything that got broken.

After the third attempt, which caused a huge wind to blast through the shelves knocking several wands down, I knelt to help Ollivander collect them when my hand gently brushed against a delicate grey wand.

Immediately my body was filled with a soft warmth, like a non-invasive pins-and-needles sensation. I straightened up and stared at the wand, waiting to see if it would explode or do something else fantastic, but nothing happened. It felt at ease in my hand.

Ollivander had a distant look in his eyes when he stood up and saw what I was holding. "Ah...that..."

"What is it?" I asked uncertainly, closing my fingers around the wand.

"That wand is made of thestral bone and old oak." Ollivander responded, brow furrowing.

My stomach lurched. _Thestral _bone? I hadn't thought wands could even be _made _of bone...perhaps that was part of the divergance...but _thestrals_?

Those skeletal horses...invisible to all except those who had seen death...

"It is a wand linked to death." Ollivander said, looking intensely at me. "I...admit, I'm surprised it responded to you...a child, not an adult who has seen much of the cruelty and strife that the world has to offer."

A violent shiver went down my spine as I stared at him. Did he know? Was it because this was my second life, that this wand was responding to me? Did the cruelty and strife refer to my past, my future...or that which I would bring upon other people?

"W...What does that mean?"

Ollivander seemed to refocus at that. "Nothing dreadful, child..." I had the distinct impression, gained over the years of the past, that I was being lied to. "Merely the thoughts of an old man. After all, you and your family have experienced such tragedy before..."

"It's nice to hear it described that way, instead of some fairy tale people should aspire to," I said flatly, uncertainly rolling my wand between my fingers. It felt cold all of a sudden.

I paid him hurriedly after that and stepped outside. The sunlight beat down on me, but the warmth didn't quite make it past my skin.

_Cruelty and strife..._

"Cassie!"

I turned my head to see Andromeda weaving her way through the crowd. Silently I glared at the few men who loudly whistled and looked her over despite the obvious ring on her finger. When she got closer, I realized she was holding something. It was a wicker basket...containing a small black and white kitten.

I gasped when Andromeda reached me and handed the basket to me. "For me?" I asked, stupefied, before sticking my fingers through the wicker for the kitten to bat at.

"Her name's Ashley." Andromeda answered with a smile at my beaming face. I loved cats and had made no secret of it. "Happy Birthday, Cassie."

I was rendered speechless for a moment before setting the basket down and hugging Andromeda – mother –with all my strength.

**Later that Night**

Harry was almost as enamoured with Ashley as I was – he was still playing with her when I stepped out of my room to go to the basement. Ashley was utterly adorable and full of energy – she was jumping on and off my bed from the moment I let her out of the basket.

I swear, Lily nearly fainted when I showed my new pet off. She shard my weakness for small, adorable, fuzzy creatures.

However, at the moment I had something else on my mind.

I ducked into the basement and began riffling through some of the old things that had been tossed down here whenever the garbage bin was full. I moved aside antiques and rifled through papers until I found myself staring down at what I was looking for.

It was a paper hailing the arrest of Sirius Black.

I opened it and read through the columns. There wasn't anything I hadn't expected – calls of traitor, claiming he had somehow leaked the secret with dark magic learned at Voldemort's knee, most of the details being treated as 'hush hush' by the Ministry.

Yes, I call him Voldemort in my head. Tonks nearly choked when I said his name casually over breakfast once.

So. nothing I couldn't have guessed. I stared at the image of Sirius, watching him laugh as he was hauled away in chains...was he crying? The moving picture allowed for a little more guesswork then the muggle counterpart, but the image was so grainy I couldn't be certain...

But it did look it. It looked like he was crying.

Did that mean he was still innocent, despite Pettigrew's newfound conscience?

This question tormented me some nights. The horror of the dementors cursed me for doing nothing when I knew, or at least was somewhat certain, that they were torturing an innocent man...and not just some stranger who I knew in passing, but my godfather, my mother's cousin. _Family_.

I could not imagine for the life of me that even the Ministry, as corrupt as it was, would allow such evil even against the worst of our kind. I didn't hate even Joffery Barantheon that much.

I had to know the truth. I just had to.

"Cassie, I thought you would be upstairs..." Ted's voice came from behind me. Despite my surprise, I managed not to jump – the other good thing about Occlumency is it helped with emotional control to a certain extent. It made me more...tranquil, for lack of a better word, on certain days.

"What are you looking at?" He pressed, walking over to join me. Silently, I passed him the newspaper while turning to face him.

Ted's expression fell as he examined the page before looking at me. "Cassie...why are you bothering with this? He's in Azkaban. He can't hurt you anymore."

I set my face in stone. "I want to see him," I answered in a matter of fact way.

Ted looked uncertainly at me for a moment, like he was wondering if I was joking. When the silence continued for a moment, he spoke again. "...Why in the world do you want that? He betrayed your parents."

"Did he?" I asked in quiet challenge, raising my eyes to meet him. "Did he, father? ...Then why is he crying?"

Ted froze for a moment, his expression changing to the one he always had when he wasn't sure what to do with me. He tried to hide it, but I had gotten good at reading people during my years with the Dursleys. It was a good early warning system.

"I don't remember Padfoot and Moony that well," I said in reference to the last two Mauraders, "But I remember their faces, the way they held me and laughed with my dad. Ever since I found out about...that," I waved my hand at the paper, "Something just feels wrong...I can see Padfoots' face behind my closed eyes as he paraded me around the room, calling me 'princess', and I feel like I can't believe this. Any of this."

I crossed my arms and looked up at Ted Tonks. "...and what if I'm right? What if he is innocent? Did he have any defendants during his trial?"

"...There was no trial."

I gaped at him, even though I expected it. "...I thought that court policy was innocent until proven guilty. Not the other way around."

Ted flushed. "Those were difficult times, Cassie...most people just wanted the war to end."

"So they rushed the verdict?"

"Why are you so certain something's wrong? What have you heard, what have you seen?" Ted asked, looking intently at me.

"I dream." I responded honestly. I did still have nightmares about Voldemort murdering mum. I never told Harry about them. They were too painful to remember, to acknowledge.

If I kept my hatred of Tom Riddle inside me, let it fester there, it would give me strength when I eventually had to face him.

"I see them in my sleep...my really old memories, back before..." I let the sentence trail away. I don't need to finish it.

Ted examined me for a long moment. When the silence became crushing, he said, "I...I'll talk to the Azkaban wardens about scheduling a visitation. Andi...Andi always did want to see him. She...she feels just like you do, you know."

My heart leapt. I wasn't sure if I was heading for disappointment or vindication, but I was ready to accept either if it meant clearing up this doubt inside me.

**End Chapter**

**Next time, I meet Sirius for the first time, but the meeting results in me having more questions then answers as I continue to prepare for my first year at Hogwarts and all that entails.**

**Read and Review please!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Given**

**Tyene: You do realize there are other stories in more need of an update, right?**

**Wanda: Hey! My inspiration goes where ever it goes! I write what's in my head at the moment! So sometimes updates for some stories might get a bit...sporadic! I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 9: Azkaban**

Depression is difficult to deal with.

When most people hear the word 'depressed', they usually slap you on the back and go, "cheer up! Why are you depressed? You've got a wonderful life!"

To which I retort, "I was also an asthmatic when I was four. Why should I have trouble breathing? I'm surrounded by air!"

I grew out of the latter, but the former became almost omnipresent during my first attempt at high school. And speaking from experience? It's not like feeling down because your team lost the Stanley Cup Playoffs. Being depressed means struggling to get out of bed. It means not finding joy in anything you loved doing. It makes every day feel like a frickin' fight for your life. Everything suddenly seems impossible. You end up fighting with your family over how much school you miss because you're always sick with stress and exhaustion. Couple that with a rare sleep disorder and you have a recipe for utter disaster.

Why am I bringing this up?

One word – Dementors.

Wizards – at least, the wizards in Britain must not have basic human rights laws. That's the only possible way I could rationalize the presence of Dementors anywhere near civilization, even if it's the jail containing the worst of our criminals.

I wasn't close to any of them, at least in the sense that they were physically close to me. They didn't need to be.

Just having them fly overhead made me utterly hysterical.

Ted was hugging me, holding me against his chest, muttering soothing words, but I could barely hear him, barely sense his presence over the cacophony of horror that was ringing through my mind.

I remembered the train crash where I died. The crushing, the screaming, the loss of hope as my mortality unveiled itself, it wasn't fair there was so much more I wanted to do, I wanted to see my family, please I don't want to die yet – and then it was over. The pain, I could remember the pain, and the blackness between life and death.

I remembered starving in the cupboard that first time, the world swimming, Harry crying while a spider crawled across my face I was too weak to even raise a hand to brush it away. It was dark dark dark, I thought I would fall into the nothingness, thought I would die again so soon after I got a second chance, except it didn't feel like another chance at all.

I felt the unique mixture of fear, hatred and anxiety that I reserved especially for Vernon and Petunia, I could feel their slaps and their cruel cruel words.

I could see Harry bleeding when his lip was broken, I saw him crumpled at the foot of the stairs after Dudley pushed him down and nearly broke his skull.

I heard Lily's, my mother's screams before Voldemort snuffed her life out.

Then – then someone pushed a cold cylinder into my hands. "Drink," A distant voice said urgently. "Drink, Cassie, it'll help, they're gone, they're far away-"

I was crying and gasping for breath, my vision blurred. I was shaking so badly that Ted had to help me down the vial, because I could barely hold onto it.

"Bloody fucking idiots!" Ted was shouting when the screams faded from my ears. "I'll fucking sue you for letting those monsters within a mile of my child! YOU KNEW WE WERE COMING, YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN READY, WARDEN! ...No, I don't fucking care what protocol is, a child's health takes precedence!"

Ted had never cursed in front of us, or Andromeda for that matter. But hey, he was a lawyer...he'd probably heard words even I hadn't used before.

Calming draughts are wonderful inventions. I slid against the wall, taking long deep breaths as the shadows receded and the world came back into focus. My chest felt like it was trying to snap itself in half.

Ted knelt down next to me and put both his hands on my shoulders. "Cassie? Cassie look at me. It's gone. It's gone, you're okay, you're safe."

I tried to blink away my tears, but my body wouldn't cooperate. Instead I elected to throw myself into Ted's arms and cling to him like a security line. Ted rubbed my back, muttering soothing nonsense while the nurse took up his position of shouting at the flustered and defensive warden. The word 'savage' came up a lot.

"It..._hiccough_...it hurts..."

"Shhhh, shhhh...it's gone. It's gone. I won't let it hurt you."

"How...how c-could you let those t-things stay h-here...?"

"I don't know, kitten, I don't know." I had never had a nickname before. The closest I ever got to it was my brother calling me 'Els' and later 'kid', much to my ire. (he had only been two years older then me!) Ted knew how much I loved cats; once Tonks joked over dinner that I would turn into one permanently at this rate and it had evolved from there.

Weird thing to think about. But it helped me calm down.

I needed to be able to conjure a patronus charm. Stat. Damn me for not thinking to try and master it earlier! I should have seen that coming! I swore it would be the very next spell I would learn to use, if it was the last thing I did. I _would _be capable of it before I went to my first year at Hogwarts.

The strength returned to my legs a few minutes later. Ted hovered over me, keeping one hand on my shoulder until I gently pushed it off on my own accord.

_I'm Cassie Potter. Death itself couldn't break me. I won't be afraid._

That was my mantra for the inside of Azkaban.

It looked exactly as horrible as I expected it to – like a demented medley of the movie version and the Peter Jackson depiction of Mordor. (goddamn it, that hadn't been made yet either.) While the Dementors had been pushed back by aurors after my little episode, they weren't the only disturbing thing there. No, that had to go to the prisoners.

Ted, Tonks and Andi did their best to hide me from the prisoners, but I was still seen. Many were screaming, banging on the walls, but not all of them were inarticulate, or curled up in a corner talking nonsense to themselves. No, some of them were still lucid.

Some of them were Voldemort's toadies.

"YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM US FOREVER, POTTER! WHEN THE DARK LORD RETURNS, HE'LL SEE TO IT THAT YOU AND YOUR BASTARD BROTHER DIE FOR REAL!"

"LOOK AT ME! _LOOK AT ME! _SEE WHAT YOU'VE WROUGHT AMONG THE GREATEST OF WIZARDKIND!"

For the record, I didn't look. Actually, I made a point of not looking. And it wasn't just because of fear.

While I wouldn't define myself entirely as a social justice _crusader_, I can happily and firmly state in my belief that everyone deserves the right to live and be happy – regardless of skin tone, gender identity, or belief. I had been raised that way, and it always raised my hackles when I heard otherwise.

To me, these things were simply right and to question them was just absurd. What did skin colour matter? We all bled red, didn't we?

Blood purity – belief in the 'ideal human' – brought up unpleasant memories of when I had researched World War II in English. I found I wasn't afraid of these people's threats.

I was pissed off.

So the rantings of Barty Crouch Jr were met with me flipping him the bird with both hands, before raising my head high and continuing on my way.

/

Sirius's cell was isolated.

The high security prisoners weren't put close together, as an added security measure on the already 'inescapable' prison. His was at the end of the hall.

Yeah, don't put _Bellatrix Lestrange _in that cell. Toss in the guy you put there without a trial or physical evidence.

God, fuck the Ministry of Magic.

"Prisoner 666." The warden said coldly as he swung his cell open. The two aurors with us cast a binding curse to paralyse Sirius to the chair, ensuring that he couldn't move and do any of us harm.

I knew Andi and Ted were right behind me, but I didn't want that right now. I turned around and asked, "Can I go in first...? Please."

Ted looked surprised and Andromeda uneasy, but the warden let out a rumbling laugh. "Let her," He said. "She of all people deserves to spit in that bastard's face, and he's not going anywhere."

Andi frowned, but after a minute she nodded reluctantly in assent. Taking a deep breath, I stepped just inside the door.

"Ten minutes," The warden intoned before closing it behind us.

I stared across the room to where Sirius was.

He looked like a corpse. If it wasn't for the fact that his eyes were moving and his bound hands twitched when I came in, I would have thought he was dead. His eyes were sunken in and practically black; his skin was pale and covered with filth, and something that almost looked like rot. His hair was long, filthy and matted and his teeth were in terrible shape.

I was horrified. I hadn't ever been directly inside a prison in my last life, but I knew, I _knew _no muggle prisoner (at least in the West) was treated so abominably!

_You can tell the state of a society by the way it treats it's prisoners._

My hands shook slightly, but I forced myself to take a step closer and sit down on the rusty chair that had been brought in for me.

"...Padfoot?" I asked after a moment of crushing silence.

Sirius blinked at this. He couldn't do much else, thanks to the binding curse, but I saw emotion in his eyes. Joy and sorrow...disgust? At me seeing him like this?

"...kitten..." He had called me that too? My toddler memories were blurring as I grew older. I must have forgotten... "...I...I haven't seen you in years... ... ...you got big."

I locked my fingers together to keep them from shaking. "I haven't seen you either." I said quietly. "Last I remember...you left us with Hagrid..."

"Heh...damn, that feels like an eternity ago..." Sirius muttered. He looked like he wanted to move forward, maybe hold my hand, but of course he was stuck where he was. "How've you been the last few years...?"

"..." I debated mentally, whether or not I should tell him. "...not good. Our aunt and uncle..." I bit my lip, giving a look of uncertainty and distress. "...they weren't...well...it doesn't matter anymore."

"...What do you mean?" Sirius asked.

There. In his voice. Worry. Concern.

He could be faking it, I suppose. But after nearly ten years shut up in this shithole, with nothing but those soul sucking monstrosities to keep you company, would you even be _capable _of faking emotions? At the Dursleys, I had been all about hiding how I felt, but all it took was one dementor flying too close to me and I was a complete wreck.

I reached up and rubbed my cheek, where I had gotten slapped so many times, looking at the floor. Sirius took a sharp intake of breath.

"I want to know something." I said quietly.

"...ask anything." Sirius croaked.

"Did you betray my parents?" I asked.

A simple question. Just five words. But it carried so much weight...for me, for Harry...for him and mother, Andromeda.

"No." The response is instant. Pleading. "No. Never. Not James or Lily."

"Then why are you here?" I asked, my fingers turning white as I pressed my palms together. This was the moment of truth.

"I don't know." Sirius said.

_...that's new..._

"I'm not stupid, I know how that sounds, but I didn't do it!" Sirius pleaded. "That day...I had a sense something was wrong...me and James, we were always close. I just knew...and when I got there, they were already..." His voice broke and he looked away.

I sat on the edge of my chair, straining my ears, desperately waiting for him to go on.

"I went back...I think I was looking for the Order, I...I think..." Sirius groaned and shut his eyes. "And now I can't remember...the Dementors took it from me...I think, I knew why your parents died...even with the charm..."

"But why? How's that possible?" I whispered.

"I...I can't...I don't remember...someone...someone attacked me...then I was waking up here, they said I had betrayed them and threw me in here...!"

_...Can't remember...!? what does that mean...? Did the dementors really take the memory...or has someone attempted to oblivate or repress it!? And if they did...who!?_

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the door swung open. "Time's up," The warden said with a cruel smile.

"I didn't do it, Cassie!" Sirius nearly howled the words. I wanted to go and hug him, I wanted to do anything else, but I couldn't let anyone know. So I forced myself to walk out with a cold expression plastered across my face, one I had usually reserved especially for Vernon.

Ted put his arms around my shoulder as Andi went inside, for her turn. I leaned against his shoulder, my head whirling.

"All in all, you'd expect the wise to be wiser, fallen from grace..." I whispered. "All and I, I guess, we should have known better..."

Occlumency shields took over, and my emotions disappeared behind my face.

****Some Time Later****

For a long time – the next few weeks, actually – I did nothing but turn my conversation with Sirius over in my head, fighting to make sense of it.

So Sirius still wasn't the traitor. But who was? What else made sense in this situation!?

Why leave Sirius alive, if the real culprit wanted to bury his/her misdeeds forever? Why just suppress or erase the memory, leaving to chance that he might come back? Who could gain from betraying the Potters, but then framing Sirius _after _they lost the war?

Voldemort did still exist. But he was a powerless wraith right now, with no armies and no power outside of the ability to possess people. ...Could it have been him? Could he have bodyjumped to some loyal toady and taken this as a last act of revenge against one who had fought to bring him down? But if he had managed to bodyjump, why stop there? Then again, even Quirrel couldn't sustain him without drinking lots of unicorn blood, and there weren't many of those cantering around downtown London... maybe he went after Sirius, and then his host expired under the pressure?

It was a possibility...I wish the papers were reliable! And – I don't know – had some actual useful fucking information in them!

Who else could have done it?

...Dumbledore?

I didn't know what to think of that. Yes, Dumbledore left us with the Dursleys under some senile impression that we'd be safe there. Some people back home often speculated that he wasn't nearly as snow white as he was painted.

But could he really have turned my parents over to Voldemort in an attempt to fulfil the prophecy?

Was that even a logical question? 'Greater Good' was the thing that ruined his life, the thing that killed his fragile, likely mentally insane sister. Why would he continue to support that into his old age, when supposedly he had changed everything?

But if uncle Peter was...well, _uncle _Peter, instead of Peter the Coward Pettigrew, was it possible that Dumbledore would be willing to go to extremes to end the threat of Voldemort?

I had to hum 'what about us' and Icon for Hire's 'Get Well' over and over to keep myself calm that evening as all these possibilities bounced around my skull.

I had committed all my questions to paper – in a convoluted symbols code, one that I transfigured into a rubix cube. It was a complicated thing, and would be a pain in the neck to untranslate later, but it would keep anyone from stumbling across the things I knew and the questions I was asking.

That wasn't the only thing on my mind, though.

Would the implication – one I had hoped I had left in our conversation – that I believed in him give Sirius the strength and will to break out of Azkaban early? I think I had, given that I had _asked _about what had happened instead of cursing him for causing it.

It hurt. I felt dirty leaving him in Azkaban, in that living hell, now that I was certain of his innocence. This place was just _evil _for putting anyone, even criminals, even the fucking _Lestrange _family, through that!

Ashley meowed and rolled onto her stomach; she had taken up residence in my bed as I read and wrote about that day's events. Absently I reached over and scratched her belly, giggling despite myself when she batted at my hand and rolled about cutely.

_Questions, to many damn questions and no one willing to give me answers...I'll have to figure it out on my own...fucking useless politicians, not figuring out something a _ten year old _could decipher...I _always_ hated politics...turning even intelligent people into self serving assholes._

I reached over and picked up my wand, staring at it once more. _Cruelty and strife..._ Ollivander's words regarding this wand haunted me. Was this part of that suffering?

I glanced over at the calender on my wall.

Exactly six months until my first day at Hogwarts.

I dreaded it.

I suppose there was the option of going to a different school – believe me, it was really tempting. But did I really dare go anywhere else?

Especially if I knew that Voldemort was going to come back, that fucking prophecy, and how useless everyone else was going to be when it came to combating him.

Tessie and Lily were going to go there, James was already there. Altair Black was going to be there.

She was Sirius's daughter. She had to be; unless Regulus was alive here as well. I grimaced. I knew exactly what kind of man Orion Black was. _The spiteful ones live the longest_, they say. That went double for evil old KKK esque fanatics.

Altair probably wouldn't be easy to help or befriend. She'd probably push us away in fear of her grandfather.

But I was going to do whatever it took to see her through this until her father could escape and go find her. Who else would?

"Hey Cassie."

I looked up from my wand to see Harry standing in my doorway. The younger boy was frowning and I felt a jolt of concern.

"Harry, what's wrong? You should be asleep." It was 9:30; past his bedtime.

"So should you," Harry said pointedly.

I sighed and gently picked Ashley up, moving her over so Harry could join me. "It's nothing, just having a little trouble getting to sleep. You know me...got too much to think about at once."

"...I had a bad dream."

I frowned and brushed his hair away from his face. "What kind of bad dream?"

"I don't really understand it...but I've had it before. There's this green light, and a woman screaming...I think she's dying."

_...Fuck. That dream. Of course, he's having it too._

"You can sleep here with me, if you'd like." I said softly. "Just like old times."

Harry smiled. "Thanks you Cassie."

He went to sleep in record time, his head resting against my side while Ashley curled up in the space between us. I watched Harry sleep for a little, wishing for the first time – perhaps rather selfishly – that he could share the burden of what I knew and what was coming. Even though I knew how hard and brutal it could be with one wrong step...

But he was my little brother. It was my job to protect him. Funny. In the last lifetime, I had been the younger sibling. I'd been close to my brother, but he never really had to look out for me – didn't really, but I guess there weren't any real opportunities where that was necessary.

Here, I was the guardian. And as I fell asleep, I knew I wasn't just having to protect Harry, but Tessie, Lily, Altair...all of the people I knew would come under fire from Voldemort...

_Unless I stopped him from coming back at all._

**End Chapter**

**Yyyyyeaaahhh, that's not going to be as easy as it sounds. At all. Can I even do that?**

**Read and Review please!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Given**

**Tyene: Think you might be overreacting a bit?**

**Wanda: (is dressed as Dany from GoT with three dragons surrounding her) No, no I'm not. This world is a _scary _place to live in. I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 10: The Train**

I was becoming a very good liar.

I should probably be disturbed how easily half truths and exact words flowed out of my mouth whenever people talked to me or asked me what I thought of something. It was a very political...dare I say, pureblood sort of mindset. I would make innocent yet deflecting comments when opinions came up, probing questions disguised as innocent small talk, suspicion of anyone not named Pettigrew, Tonks or Potter, and generally acted nothing like a nine year old.

In some ways, my well known history with abuse was almost a blessing. It gave me an excuse to be mature beyond my age in certain areas. (though certainly not emotionally.) Andromeda and Ted had long sense taken it for granted that I was smarter and more controlled then your average eleven year old, so usually they didn't think really hard about anything I said.

So when Nymphadora (or, as Harry and I called her affectionately, Dora) asked me that fateful morning if I was excited to go to Hogwarts, I smiled in her face and told her, "I bet it will be amazing."

I felt bad for lying to her. I really did. Inside my brain, I was going a little more like this:

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck this is a bad idea this is a bad idea why me why me AAAARRRGHHHH!_

Oh, if you could put a microphone inside my head...how differently my foster family would see me.

Dora was pretty excited to chaperone me and Harry down to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, where we'd meet up with Pettigrew. While I would partially chalk it up to wanting to prove her maturity and auror potential by getting us there while avoiding the expected assaults from paparatzzi and 'adoring' fans (who would change their minds about us more times than a bi-polar monkey on crack) along the way.

That and she wanted to be there to comfort Harry when I stepped onto the train.

I glanced to my right; Harry was listlessly poking at his breakfast, looking forlorn as much as he tried to hide it.

Our experiences together had made us close, even by sibling standards. Back at the Dursleys, all we had was each other. This would mark the first time in our lives that we would be separated by miles, our only contact being through letters and the winter break.

Harry wasn't looking forward to it. Neither was I, to be honest – even with Lily and Tessie by my side, I was the sort to get homesick very easily. And that was when I went to a perfectly ordinary sleepaway camp as opposed to a, y'know, walking death trap.

Hence the five pocket Sneakascopes I had bought to hide among my various things, the locking and repelling charms I had shanghaied Dora into helping me put on my trunk, and my intense personal lessons in my room where I practice magic.

If anyone tried to slip me a soul-sucking diary, I would know about it.

_I would make Alastar Moody proud. I believe the 'polite' way Doctor Walker would describe me is 'paranoid and controlling'. I don't deny it. I probably need therapy. Me and Harry. And Sirius, when he escapes or I rescue him. And Lupin...where ever the hell he is right now. And probably everyone involved in the last blood war. _

_But you know what? Cerberus, trolls, monster spiders, murderous teachers, bullying running rampant, and everyone you bloody well meet holding the magical equivalent of a loaded gun with more options then Batman's tool belt, I feel entitled to paranoia. I feel quite empathetic towards Moody now, more than I was before anyhow._

My trunk was packed, and Ashley was surprisingly not furious about being locked up in her wicker basket considering how much energy she usually had.

Whether I liked it or not, this is as ready as I was going to be.

"You won't have to worry, Harry." I said after passing our dishes into the sink. "I'll send you an owl as often as I can."

"I don't want you to go without me," Harry said, frowning and looking down at my feet.

I reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Harry, really. It's just a year, and then you'll be able to go with me too." _And I'll have a delightful time flipping out while trying to keep you and your friends out of harms way. _

_Speaking of which, I'll have to keep an eye on a certain pair of troublemaking twins...just in case they try to plant something on me as a joke and end up stumbling across my secrets. They do have the Maurader's Map._

"And if we write letters, it'll be like I'm just a few doors away." I smiled encouragingly at him and ruffled his hair, "After all, you can't do _everything _with your big sister forever, right?"

"I don't want to be here by myself." Harry complained, taking a step backwards. "James will be at Hogwarts too."

"Then how about trying to go out and make some friends of your own." I suggested, my mind immediately drifting to a certain redhead. Unlike some other fans, I had never considered Ron Weasley a demon or future domestic abuser or anything like that. Usually I just found him bland, with some jealously issues. And when you live paycheck to paycheck, I realize it' kind of hard to blame him for that. "Ask mother or father to show you around some of the parks or stuff."

"But none of them will really like me," Harry said with a frown. "They'll only like me because of this." He rubbed his fingers against the scar on his forehead as though trying to scrape it off.

I actually laughed a bit. "Harry, you're a loyal and funny person, and there are thousands of other children in Britain. Odds are that one of them is bound to like you for who you really are!"

Harry managed a smile at that, though I couldn't say for certain whether he fully believed me or not.

"Cassie's right, Harry." Dora said, stepping in from the kitchen. Her hair was currently its default rose pink, though there was a brightness to it that accented her good mood. "Now c'mon you two – it's time to go! Don't want to miss the train!"

/

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Generally, it was a good idea to keep Tessie away from anything with more then a little sugar in it. However, Lily's best attempts to keep her sister mellow for her stressful first day went directly out the window the minute the three of us stepped onto the platform. "FINALLY!" She yelled, causing Lily and I to cringe at her volume. "Here we are!"

"I can tell...please stop yelling..." Lily pleaded. Her owl Elsa hooted as if in agreement, hiding her head under her heather colored wing.

I looked around, biting my lip. The platform did look amazing – it was everything the movies depicted it to be and more. However, my bubbling paranoia was once again making it difficult to really appreciate.

My eyes swept the crowd, searching for familiar faces. Most of the students I would recognize on sight were in Harry's year, so by and large I was in uncharted waters.

However, I did spot a certain group of redheads further down in the crowd. Two young boys of equal height were laughing while their taller, older brothers looked a mixture of amused, indigent and disapproving respectively.

The Weasley Family. Should I duck over there? I decided against it directly, though I was bound to run into them at some point. Strange as it might sound given their unpredictable nature, I was grateful to see the infamous twins – it lent a sense of security to me.

I knew how they ticked and who they sided with as a certainty.

I took a deep breath and turned back to face Peter and Dora. My stomach twisted; I hadn't really thought about it that way before but I was going into a place I knew was incredibly dangerous and they wouldn't be there to help me. That was almost as frightening as knowing they wouldn't be right there in case I was feeling down.

"Take care, you three," Peter said, giving us each his familiar awkward hug. As I had just recently started to, I hugged him back and smiled slightly.

Dora gave me an extravagant hug that nearly sent me falling to the ground, followed more sedately by Harry who kept clinging on even as Tessie tried to drag me to the train.

"Cassie!" Harry yelled as we vanished into the crowd.

"Bye Harry! I love you, and I'll write to you soon!" I called as the group of them faded out of sight.

"Poor Harry," Lily said sadly.

"Ah, he'll be fine once he adjusts." James said dismissively, ignoring the glare I shot him over this remark. "I'm going to find Oliver and David; you girls find a compartment and remember to change before we get to Hogwarts!"

_Git, abandoning us just like that! _I thought as I stepped onto the train feeling like there was a rock at the bottom of my stomach.

At this point, there was no turning back. My mind slid into semi-auto pilot while Tessie and Lily lead me down the hall, past other compartments and students to find a place to sit as I considered, once again, the situation I was heading into.

_Avoid drawing attention to yourself. Be suspicious of anything and everything. Keep an eye on the defence teacher._

The first suspect of any bad things happening at Hogwarts would be the defence against the dark arts teacher. In the books, there had been exactly one teacher (Remus) who hadn't been evil or deeply linked to whatever conspiracy was going on at the moment. While there wasn't much mention of the DADA teachers prior to Harry's school years, _but_ given that the curse on the position had been placed there by Tom Riddle I sincerely doubted any of the rest of them would be much better.

But...that wasn't the only class I was required to take that caused concern.

There was also potions.

Oh, God, Helix, Zelda, whoever you are, _help me_.

Severus Snape...I didn't think he was the devil in my first life. I even felt rather sorry for him by the time Deathly Hallows rolled around. But that didn't mean I wanted to deal with him personally, far less be in his presence for a one hour shift _every single week day_. There was too much baggage in our history for our relationship to be anything but strained and tenuous.

I wondered if he would treat me differently, given the slightly altered timeline from the one I remembered.

I didn't look like James Potter at all save for my eyes. I looked like Lily. I had her hair, her skin and her general physicality.

Maybe he'd be nicer to me. Maybe that would bring out his better side and his desire to make things right for the children of the only person he ever loved.

... ...Oooooooor he could go Petyr Baelish on me.

I honestly wasn't sure which thought was more terrifying – him bullying me or...becoming _obsessed_.

There wasn't anything in the books that had suggested that Snape had any predatory tenancies...but Harry looked like his worst enemy. Not Lily.

Fuck.

_Fuck_, I didn't want to go to Potions class.

**End Chapter**

**Mostly a teaser before I enter Hogwarts officially because this weather is killing my brain. I might to back and rewrite/expand this chapter like ch2 at some point when I'm not dying of heat.**

** Am I right about Snape? Or is my paranoia getting the better of me before I even set foot inside this school?**

**Read and Review please!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Given**

**Tyene: You really need to relax a bit.**

**Wanda: (swimming in pool) It's finally summer! I'm already relaxing! Makes writing much easier! I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 11: Hogwarts**

The moment I stepped off the train, my concerns and anxieties dissolved like lithium in water when I looked upon the thestrals for the first time.

"Cassie?" Lily asked nervously as I took a step towards the front of the carriage, transfixed by the skeletal horses pulling it. "What are you looking at."

I stared at the lead thestral, who nickered and swung her head in my direction. The flesh and fur was black, and slicked so close to the bones it was as if they had none at all. They had _sharp teeth –_ the species was carnivorous. Their wings...I think those were the most beautiful part of them. Instead of being batlike as the movies had shown, they were soft and ethereal looking. It was as if they were made of a dark glass.

My wand felt warm again. Was it reacting to them?

Tentatively I raised one hand, standing close to her. The spectral horse nickered again, and to my astonishment leaned forward and brushed her head against my hand, at her ears.

"Cassie...? What are you doing?" Tessie asked slowly, looking between me and the – to her – empty space next to me where the thestral was.

"Come over here," I said, grabbing Lily by the arm and pulling her over. The redhead squeaked in shock as I took her hand and placed it next to mine.

"What? What? What am I missing?" Tessie demanded in confusion.

"The carriages are pulled by thestrals." The new voice started us. I raised my head; in my awe over the magnificent creature in front of me I hadn't realized there was already somebody sitting in the carriage we were going to take, Luna Lovegood-style. Two someones, actually.

They had at least a few years between them. The older girl had braided brown hair and a very dignified look, her eyes were blue and she was dressed in her robes. The younger girl had lighter brown hair mixed with gold, her eyes were green, and while she was wearing her robes she was clearly wearing muggle clothes beneath them.

"Are you going to hop on?" The younger asked. Her voice was coloured by a distinct German accent the other girl didn't share. "They're going to leave soon."

"Thank you," I said, moving away from the thestral to step onto the carriage and sit down, Lily and Tessie on either side of me. My heart jumped when the thestrals began to canter towards Hogwarts. _It starts now. No turning back._

"You're all first years, right?" The older girl asked. When Lily nodded, she smiled in a friendly way and said, "I'm Penelope Clearwater. I'm in fourth year Ravenclaw, so if there's anything you need to know feel free to ask."

"Tessie Pettigrew," Tessie responded. "That's my sister Lily, who talks primarily in whispers." Lily gave her sister a mildly hurt look, prompting my to kick Tessie in the shin. "And the very ladylike Cassie Potter is the one kicking me right now."

"Doubtless I didn't need the introduction," I said dryly. It had been several years, and yet I still entirely understood why Harry resented this notoriety of ours. Or would resent it.

"_Ja_." The younger girl chuckled, "Must be annoying sometimes...can you go down a street without being recognized? Do all conversations start off with, 'oh my god! You're Cassie Potter'!" The last bit she mimed quotation marks with her hand and made a disturbing rendition of the valley girl accent.

"Far more often then I would like. But not ubiquitous." I answered. "What's your name?"

"Amber Parson." The girl said. "Penny's cousin from Germany, moved here a few months ago. So don't expect me to worship you."

"Hah! I'm pretty sure Cassie would sucker punch anyone who tried to worship her," Tessie joked, causing me to scowl and kick her lightly again. "Seriously, her first reaction to anyone using her full name is either groaning or rolling her eyes."

"I don't like being put on a pedestal over something I don't remember and to this day, don't understand." I grumbled.

Penelope looked mildly disapproving at this, but Amber burst out laughing. "I think I like you," She told me. "What house are you expecting? I hear that's considered a big deal around these parts."

"Anywhere but Slytherin." I answered. Feeling the need to explain myself further, I quickly added, "And I'm not saying that because argh! Evil snakes!, or stuff like that. The simple fact is a good chunk of...those guys have kids who are in Slytherin by default, and I'd rather not be in an environment like that. Besides, I don't think I'd fit in very well."

_Oh, you'd fit in fantastically, _a voice in the back of my head said. _When was the last time you told someone the full truth? _

That voice is starting to get a bit louder these days. I don't like it.

"Gryffindor, definitely." Tessie proclaimed.

"That I don't doubt at all," I said sarcastically. Tessie mock glared at me while Lily mumbled, 'as long as I'm with my sister and James.'

It had started raining not long after we had gotten off the train. I shivered, it was already cold out here without that. The ocean next to Hogwarts stretched into the horizon like a black void; the wind felt all the colder thanks to that.

Hogwarts itself towered above us as our carriage made the rickety journey up to its front gates. Tessie squealed in excitement, while a cold pit formed in my stomach. It looked old, and forbidding...or perhaps that was my imagination going wild.

"Good luck at your sorting, Amber. I'll see you later, alright?" Penelope said when our carriage came to a stop.

"Ja. See you later," Amber said as her cousin disappeared into the crowd.

I decided to take a chance. "Want to come in with us?"

Amber blinked and then smiled. "Sure."

We fell in step with the rest of the first year students, who were running in desperation to get out of the rain. The inside of the castle was brightly lit and surprisingly warm; heat washed over my bare hands the moment we stepped inside. Lily was still shivering, so I held her hand and pulled her a little closer as we continued up the stairs.

True to form, Professor Minerva McGonagall was waiting for us. She looked almost exactly like Maggie Smith, which was both a surprise and a comfort. "Welcome to Hogwarts," She said clearly and firmly. The chattering hushed as she got our full attention. "This is a prestigious school, the best in all of Britain."

_Which is frequently infested with dangerous monsters, teachers who want to kill you, and servants of the Dark Lord. But apart from that, yup, safest and best in Britain._

"There are four houses that will serve as your home for the school year. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin."

_In other words, be prepared to be labelled as an overpraised jock with no intelligence, a stuck up bookwork with no social skills, leftovers, or evil Death Eater canon fodder. Hope you like one of those stereotypes because they're staying with you until you die._

"They each have their own prestigious history and well known figures."

_If your definition of 'prestigious' involves being murderous bloodline supremacists or sainted historical figures no one questions, then yes. Very prestigious and well known._

Cassie Potter, eternal optimist, that's me.

We were lead into the Great Hall. I examined the head table. Yup, there was Dumbledore, right where I expected...oh, that must be Flitwick, maybe it couldn't hurt to be sorted into Ravenclaw...Pomona Sprout, smiling and waving to all the newcomers...there's Hagrid, geez that guy's huge...and there's Professor Snape.

I felt like he was watching me. I doubted that was a coincidence. I lowered my eyes to my feet and stuck close to Lily.

Professor Snape wasn't the only one. I had the distinct impression that other people were looking at me too, or seeking me out in the crowd. I took a deep breath.

_I'm Cassie Potter. Death didn't break me. I'm not scared._

_I'm not afraid..._

"Alegurv, Sandra." The first student to be sorted walked up to the hat with notable confidence. She had dark hair and stayed under the hat only for a few moments before it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Grinning, Sandra ran down to the furthest table, who clapped and cheered while recieving their newest housemate.

"Branstone, Eli!" A young man this time, tanned skin and a nervous smile. "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Canberry, Janice!" "RAVENCLAW!"

"Curtis, Daria!" "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Carstairs, Kayla!" "SLYTHERIN!"

"Duchannes, Connor!" "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Dust, Diana!" "SLYTHERIN!"

"Evice, Jason!" "SLYTHERIN!"

"Evan, Isis!" "RAVENCLAW!"

I watched as the rest of my fellow first years slowly flitted towards their tables, the clapping roaring in my ears like a driving rain. I locked my fingers together to keep them from shaking, Lily shooting me a worried look as I did so. _I'm going to be fine. It's just a sorting..._

"Fields, Sarah!" "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Cross, Heather!" "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Parson, Amber!"

I watched as Amber walked up to the hat. She sat down and spent an entire minute under the hat before it finally proclaimed, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Amber shot her cousin a disappointed look before reluctantly walking over to join the red and gold table. I felt a tug of sympathy for her. I was going to write to Harry the minute I could find a place to sit and write.

"Pettigrew, Lily!" A slight hush came over the crowd as Lily nervously walked forward. Of course they recognized her; uncle Peter had been one of the more high profile members of the Order of the Phoenix...thanks in part to his association with James.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Lily ran over to the table as they cheered. A moment later, Tessie's name was called and she was placed in the red and gold just as quickly.

"Potter, Cassie."

If they had gotten quiet for Lily, they were silent for me. I took a deep breath, whispering my Occlumency triggers as I made my way up to the front.

"So that's her..."

"I heard she had protect Harry from beatings..."

"They say she's really smart..."

"I don't like pain but I bring it to life, I don't like scars but I'm good with a knife..." I whispered as I slowly sat down on the chair, mentally summoning all my willpower. "I don't like tears but I'm starting to cry and I realize, I'm destroying my life."

McGonagall placed the hat on my head.

I wish there was some way I could emphasize how _intrusive _the hat felt to me. I felt like someone had stepped into my skin uninvited, looked at all my darkest and most personal memories, the embarrassing moments, the scariest, all the things I had chosen not to share with everyone. Not just information, but personal thoughts and feelings that I felt entitled to have, that no one else needed to know.

It was an awful, spine crawling feeling.

"_Well, well, well...I haven't seen a first year use Occlumency in many years." _The voice cooed inside my head, causing my skin to crawl. I clutched the sides of the chair until my knuckles turned white.

"_I value my privacy." _I snapped, having to swallow to keep from saying that out loud.

"_You're quite talented, then...but what are you trying to hide?"_

"_None of your damn business."_

The voice became stern. "_I have to protect Hogwarts. It's my primary objective. I can't let you pass like this, not when your sitting on so many secrets."_

I resisted the urge to laugh out loud. The last thing I needed was that sort of attention, after all. _"So the fact I _don't _want a complete stranger to invade my thoughts, my private feelings and emotions is somehow dangerous? Instead of, I don't know, normal behaviour? My thoughts are no one's business but my own. You can't look at them. I don't trust you."_

"_That's hurtful. I'm just made of felt."_

"_And you talk to the guy who left me and my little brother with abusive monsters. Forgive me if I don't particularly care."_

"_That's very cynical, for a child..."_

"_I had to grow up fast. No thanks to him or them."_

"_You don't sound like much of a child."_

"_I had to take care of Harry when he was little, listen is this an interrogation or are you going to put me in a house?"_

"_Hm...hm..." _I felt him poking around and forced myself to strengthen my shields. Do these people not understand what _no _means? So much for the one who says 'no' rules...

"GRYFFINDOR!"

I sat numbly for a moment as Professor McGonagall pulled the hat off my head. Slowly I made my way towards the pair of twins chanting, "We've got a Potter! We've got a Potter!" I couldn't resist the urge to throw a look over my shoulder at Professor Snape.

He was just looking at me. When I made eye contact with him, his expression crumbled slightly and he looked away from me.

_Welcome to Hogwarts, _I thought bleakly.

**End Chapter**

**So, that's the composition of my year. Yeah, the idea of the hat always creeped me out, even when I was little. just the fact that he rummages through your head...(shivers) Anyway, this is part of the composition for my year at Hogwarts - it wouldn't be HP if there weren't a lot of characters. Yes, I am in Gryffindor - I figured the hat would have put me there because re: Dursleys and its bias (and the teachers) against Slytherin. Next time, classes, bullies, and some kids learning not to use the 'm' or 'w' word around me.**

**Read and Review please!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Given**

**Wanda: I'm so freakin giddy, you can hear it in my voice.**

**Tyene: (raises hands) Hey, you did this to yourself. Don't cry to me.**

**Wanda: (sulks) I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 12: First Classes**

I didn't sleep a single wink my first night at Hogwarts. I had expected it, but it wasn't a fantastic way to start off my first classes – nearly falling asleep on my feet at multiple points in time.

Turns out I wasn't the only insomniac. Pyromaniac Heather Cross also had trouble sleeping, something I noticed because we were bunking together – our quadrant of the first years tower included me, her, Tessie, Lily and Amber. Sarah Redfield, Sandra Alegurv, Diana Dust and Sigrid Grimm – our fellow Gryffindor first years – were at the other end of the first year tower.

I kept tossing from side to side, closing my eyes and failing to get my brain to calm down enough to go to sleep. But my mind was assaulted by disaster scenarios and the shadows seemed to hide away any number of monsters I could end up seeing here, making any sort of rest seemingly impossible.

"I don't suppose you have over-the-counter pills I could use as well," Heather asked lowly, as to not wake anyone. I sat up in surprise and looked across the room.

Heather's bed was the one directly parallel to mine, and its sheets were in a similarly rumpled state.

Heather had the look of a tough punk girl – she had darker skin attributable to her Vietnamese heritage on her father's side. Her hair was dark red and braided back away from her face and cold storm grey eyes. She had come to school wearing ripped camo jeans under her robes much to the discontent of the Fat Lady and Daria. There was a scar on the back of her right hand she claimed to have gotten during a grocery store holdup.

"No, sorry." I said. "Or I would have used them already."

Heather clicked her tongue. "Pity."

"Cassie Potter," I offered, half expecting to be rejected.

"Heather Cross," Heather said. "No offence, but I was expecting you to be...I don't know...more banged up when I first saw you. With the way the papers go on, I figured you were at least missing an arm."

"The Daily Prophet is always being overdramatic." I answered uneasily; that felt distinctly like a challenge. "It was bad...but not that bad."

"Huh." Heather said. "Well, now that we've got the obligatory kids who lived conversation out of the way, got any other way we might sleep?"

"Search me," I said, disappointed. "I figured I would just draw zen tangles and hope my eyelids would start drooping before too long."

"Never heard of those." Heather remarked with a hint of curiosity.

"Free form art style. I can't do anything too complicated, so I stick to abstract." I explained, wincing a bit when I remembered some of my attempts to draw realistic humans and animals when I was young. They looked more like the drafts of creatures for horror movies than anything else.

"I usually go out for a run outside." Heather said. Scowling, she added, "Or at least I _did_, except we're not allowed to leave the tower after curfew."

"Isn't it dangerous to be outside after dark?" I asked, brushing stray hair away from my eyes.

Heather gave me a dry look. "When you think about it, everywhere is dangerous." She retorted. "You could be moseying down the street one day, minding your own business when a car will run a red light and turn you into paste. Or you could be at college when some whackjob breaks in and starts shooting people. More people are killed by car accidents yearly then some armed conflicts. But what can you do about that? Stay inside your whole life?"

I was stunned silent for a moment before I ended up nodding thoughtfully. "I suppose you're right. I'd be lying if I said I've never thought like that..."

Heather's smile looked more like a grimace in the dark, though it was hard to tell. "Well, you have more reason than most. I take it that's why you can't sleep?"

"...Yeah. It just feels...dangerous to be here. I know that must sound silly to you, but it just keeps nagging at me."

"Heh, what's the worst that could happen?" Heather asked me. I really wished I had somehow prevented her from saying that, not that I could be certain it would have stopped things from going as toes up as they did in the end. "Hey, how about showing me these zen-tangle things?"

"Uh, sure. There's only two pens, though."

**/The Next Morning/**

Myself and Heather eventually managed to go to sleep some time after three, so neither of us were exactly bouncing off the walls the next morning.

Tessie had enough energy for the both of us in that department.

"Wakey wakey! It's morning, it's morning, it's morning, we're going to learn transfiguration!" Tessie sang, shaking me and jumping on the edge of my bed. I muttered some creative words as I half fell off my bed, rubbing at my eyes and nursing a terrible headache.

Struggling into my robes, I dragged my feet as Lily lead me down the stairs towards my first class. The school was bustling with activity as kids ran to find their first rooms for the year.

I was not looking forward to having Professor McGonagall teaching me at the crack of dawn every other day.

It was either that or Defence Against the Dark Arts, but I'll get to that later.

"Good morning, class." The woman said coolly.

"Good morning Professor McGonagall." ...Well, it was starting out like the school I remember. Maybe I could get comfortable in this place after a little while.

Hahahaha. I was never good at jokes.

"Transfiguration is one of the most complex and dangerous magics practised today. Anyone caught messing around in my class will not be coming back. Understood?"

"Yes Professor." _I'd prefer not to be transformed into some horrid half animal. I like my limbs where they are._

Oddly enough, the first lesson she gave me was the same lesson I saw first in the book – trying to turn a matchstick into a needle. I managed a smile at this, despite my drooping eyelids and pounding headache.

I managed it first in my class. McGonagall was excited at this; James had been very good at Transfiguration in his day.

_Is that how me and Harry are always going to be? Will everyone look at us and see our mother and father without seeing us?_

****Later****

I got paired up with Lily and Sarah Redfield for Herbology in the afternoon, while Tessie next to us was paired with Heather and Amber.

Sarah was...well, if it were a decade from now I would describe her as a punk rocker chick, but I suppose now it was more of a biker girl sort of thing. She had a lot of energy and confidence, and she wasn't afraid to share it.

She and Sandra were good friends, had been ever since they were children – she mentioned it while we were struggling to replant our project.

(it kept trying to strangle our hands with its roots. I wonder if there's anything here that won't automatically try to kill anyone that disturbs it.)

****Later****

"I still can't believe you managed the transfiguration on the first try!" Tessie ranted as the three of us helped ourselves to the meal.

"I told you I did practicing at home," I said with a smile. Dinner tasted wonderful – there was almost every sort of food you could shake a stick at here, managing to please even my stomach's very strict diet. "Don't worry Lily, you'll get it soon. I just over prepare. A lot."

Lily managed a small smile at that.

I gave myself a second helping of desert as an 'atta girl!' for getting through my first day at Hogwarts without any incidents, while also planning my letter to Harry for the evening.

Lily also wrote a lot of letters to her father, so the two of us usually gave Elsa the load at the same time so I didn't have to trek out to the Owlery every day. As I sent her off that evening, I let out a content sigh and headed back to the dorms.

So the first day wasn't too difficult. It was tomorrow that I was worried about.

Tomorrow – potions and defense against the dark arts.

Yay.

**End Chapter**

**Next time, I reveal some of the meat of the violent plot for my first year at Hogwarts! It's going to be rough, folks - it's a good thing I'm paranoid and learned stuff before school.**

**Read and Review please!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Given**

**Wanda: (attacking anything that moves as Model OX)**

**Tyene: (unnerved) The Nightmare curse...I knew anything tangentially related to that Krueger person was going to be bad news. I better get the antidote before she kills someone important...(leaves the room while Wanda mauls Draco Malfoy to death) JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, no one else.**

**Chapter 13: Stirrings of Darkness**

I got up the next morning with all the grim determination of a convict going to my death. Tessie noticed it, and gave me a slap on the shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about it. Sure, Professor Snape can be a evil bat but how bad could he really be compared to some other people you've known?"

I responded with a smile that looked more like a grimace as we headed downstairs.

Lily didn't like the dungeons; she always stuck by my side whenever we had to go down there. I didn't really blame her; I'm pretty sure this was the place in most medieval castles where the prisoners were kept and the torture chambers were cleaned and used. Hogwarts was a school now, but years ago it had been a fortress...and it had existed since medieval times, during which people had been quite liberal about such things.

For all I knew, Snape's potion classroom had been re-purposed from that.

_There I go, catastophizing again...it's my best defensive mechanism. And my worst social trait._

"What's up, Potter?" Heather asked curiously when I froze just outside the door to the potion's classroom. "You look like you're being taken to see an execution."

"Sorry," I said, shaking my head. "Just nervous."

Lily's hand stole into mine and squeezed tightly. She wasn't loud like Tessie, but sometimes her support was more critical...like now. We were both apprehensive and we didn't have to hide it.

So when we got inside, I paired up with Lily while Tessie sat down next to Heather. I immediately took my potion's textbook out and opened it, hoping I was at least _half _ready for a 'quiz' that the Professor might spring on me.

The door swung open with a bang, causing my heart to jump violently. I grasped my necklace to calm down while Lily gave me a worried look.

Professor Severus Snape was thinner than Alan Rickman. If I thought he wasn't listening, I would have called him a scarecrow. His billowing robes seemed to make up half of his physical size. His hair was long and black, and it had the same consistency of when I never got all the shampoo out of mine a lifetime ago. His eyes were black and cold – kind of lake a sea at night, in that they were a black abyss that would drown you, making you vanish without a trace.

I kept my eyes fixed on my book. _Don't look at me. Don't draw attention to me. _

"There will be no foolish wand waving in this class!" His voice was harsher than Mister Rickman's as well. "I don't expect most of you to have taken potion's seriously...but to the select few who do..." His eyes flicked over to the Slytherin side of the class. I heard snickers among them.

_So the Slytherin bias is strong here to. Lovely._

"I can teach you to bewitch the mind and enslave the body..."

_Because that's a _great_ thing to teach impressionable children. _I thought dryly. _Especially over privileged brats who think daddy's money and daddy's connections means they get to do whatever they want without consequences._

_Huh. He must give this speech to all of his first classes every year._

"Potter. POTTER!"

I glanced up from my book, my stomach twisting in an uncomfortable knot. Snape was staring directly at me. I averted my eyes so I was looking over his shoulder. I don't know for certain if he uses Occlumency on students, but I would rather not find out the hard way.

He was looking at me with something. I wasn't sure what. This is exactly what I didn't want.

"Potter. What would I get if I added the powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Professor Snape demanded.

He asked the same thing of Harry in _Sorcerer's Stone_. I always thought he was trying to bait Harry. The thought still occurred to me, but I was too agitated to be careful.

"Draught of the Living Dead." I snapped out. "Sir," I added belatedly when several Slytherin heads snapped around to stare at me.

No one was more taken aback then Snape himself. He stared at me, eyes slightly wide for a moment, before immediately barking out another question. "And where might I find a bezoar?"

_I wonder if you do this to one student all the time, or if you were keeping this for when you first met a Potter. _"In the stomach of a goat, sir, it's used to cure poisons." _Lovely job of trying to stay low profile. I'm pretty sure these questions aren't in the first year textbook. _

Snape stared at me in silence for another moment. A feeling I had gotten with the sorting hat came roaring back with a vengeance – I felt like he was staring straight through me, seeing something from years ago.

Seeing my mother.

"Ten points to Gryffindor." He said after a stiff silence before rounding to glare at the rest of the students. "Well? Why aren't you all writing that down!?"

Immediately everyone stopped looking at me and turned their attentions to the notebooks. "That was cool, Cassie." Lily said in relief. "I was afraid he'd call on me."

"I think if I wasn't here, he would have." I muttered in response, my eyes once again fixed on my quill and the words I was writing, shutting out the world around me. _What I wouldn't give for a pen. _

To my relief, Professor Snape _seemed _to ignore me for the rest of the class, instead grilling Tessie, Heather, and mostly Gryffindors over the practical lesson he started after the notes were taken. He walked among the Slytherins as well, but I heard little else other than stern encouragement.

_It's a wonder he's mastered Occlumency. The man doesn't have one subtle bone in his body. Though for all I know, this is part of his deep cover mask. For the house of cunning, those Death Eaters prefer to cackle and bellow their supposed superiority to anyone who cares to listen – and anyone who doesn't._

"Oh, crap!" Heather yelled from next to us, before saying something I didn't understand with considerable heat. I looked up from my book to see the last of the porcupine quills falling into a now dangerously discolored cauldron pot.

I looked across the room and saw a smirking boy with his wand out under the table. Given that Lily made an angry noise a moment later, I think she saw it too.

However, I had read the recipe and I knew how to fix this. I grabbed the handful of frog's eyes that Tessie had set out and dropped them in, before grabbing the stick and swirling it around until it stopped bubbling.

Tessie, who had been restraining Heather from retaliating at her attacker (words cannot describe how weird it was seeing _Tessie _being the sensible one) grinned at me and mouthed out, 'thanks for the save'.

Snape swooped down on us and sized us up, glaring. "Five points from Gryffindor for nearly causing a cauldron explosion on your first day."

"Sir, Heather was hexed!" Tessie snapped angrily. _So much for being sensible. _She pointed towards the boy, who was sneering at her now. "He tried to sabotage us!"

"Be quiet." Snape snapped. "You're lucky your classmates have quicker wits, or you would be in a good deal of pain right now."

Okay. Deep cover or no deep cover, I decided I didn't like him in that moment. Hate? Maybe not. Strong dislike? Certainly.

I was so relieved when the bell rang. I immediately shoved all my books into my bag, fully intending to be the first person out the door.

"Potter. Stay here for a minute."

_...Fuck._

For a moment, I was tempted to say 'to hell with that!' and leave with the still fuming Tessie/Heather and anxious Lily. But part of me didn't want to start off the year with a detention, and I didn't want to make this worse than it already was. _Already would be_. So I stayed, telling Lily I'd catch up with them.

When the class was empty, Professor Snape stood in front of me and looked at me in silence for another moment. "Potter. Why won't you look at me?"

My eyes were fixed my shoes. I didn't respond.

"Potter. I asked you a question."

"...If I have permission to speak freely?" I almost regretted the question the minute I said it. Snape's eyes darkened and his brow furrowed ominously, but when this forced me to look at him the storm abruptly left his face.

"Don't be absurd, Potter."

"I'm not absurd, sir. You frighten me." I stared back up at him. _You look just like your mother, _they always said. Let's see if that's true.

Severus Snape's face contorted with anger and confusion. I knew Occlumency, but not Legitimecy – that wasn't legal unless you trained as an Auror – so I could only fathom how he would react to that little pronouncement. My stomach twisted painfully. _I've got to get out of here._

"I'm...not sure I understand." Professor Snape said stiffly after a moment of silence, much to my surprise. I nearly jumped. "You've proven yourself to be quite knowledgeable, and I said outright that you did well today. I don't give compliments for the joys of hearing my own voice, so why would you be afraid?"

Remember when I said, when I was upset I had trouble controlling my mouth?

"That boy hexed Heather. I _saw _it. You didn't punish him. You punished her." My eyes narrowed. "It reminded me of something when I was little. Something I've been trying to forget ever since the first time I came to Diagon Alley."

I turned my back on him, pivoting on my heel. "To be honest with you, sir, I was hoping things would be different here. I thought, among other wizards, we would belong. In a world so special, so incredible, capable of so many things, I thought that you would all be different from...them."

I saw Uncle Vernon in my mind's eye, his fist pulled back to punch me. I touched my scarred cheek for a moment before irritably swiping my hair away from my eyes, which were clouding up with pent up frustration and emotion.

"I guess that was too much to hope for." I said, quiet and cold.

Another suffocating silence. I stood there, waiting for him to react, to lash out, to put me in detention and dock all sorts of points from Gryffindor for daring to compare him to my ugly, hateful, _abusive _muggle relatives. Just like the one he had.

But nothing happened. I took a shaking breath to steady my emotions and turned to face him again. "May I be excused, sir?" I asked in that same quiet voice. "I'm going to be late for Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Snape's expression had changed, contorted again. I didn't know what it meant. "Yes." He said sharply, as though cutting himself off. "Go on, Potter."

I turned and fled, not looking behind until I was three floors away, at which point I collapsed against the wall.

****Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom****

Well I ended up several minutes late for DADA anyway, in the time I took to compose myself. Again, double Slytherin and Gryffindor. I don't know what Dumbledore was smoking when he decided to put these two at such bitter odds, and then putting them in close proximity for two classes in a row. I wonder if Hogwarts has some place where you can file complaints like a mundane school.

_Somehow, I think they're too _advanced _for such trivial muggle behaviour. _

"You're late." The Defence teacher was a woman. I was slightly surprised to realize this when I sat down next to Amber, who had the only other available seat.

"I'm sorry miss." I said. "Lost track of time."

The Defense teacher seemed to accept this with a click of her tongue. "I've seen tardier students, Potter, but don't make this a habit."

She was a young woman – by my estimation, I'd put her in late twenties at most. She had slightly darker skin than mine or Harry's, was brown haired (which she had tied back in a practical braid – it made me think of Katniss Everdeen) and had a narrow, severe looking face. Her eyes were dark green. Unlike the other professors who wore outfits similar to the school uniform, she was dressed in what almost looked like scaled body armor.

She looked more like a soldier than a school teacher. That's what I noticed.

"Artemis Targaryen." She said coolly, gesturing towards the board where her name was. "I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for this year."

She fixed a snickering Slytherin duo with a steel-melting glare. Both of them whitened and sat up straight in alarm. "Let me get something straight right away – I am not here to indulge your childish behavior, I am here to teach you that there are things in this world so dark that your nightmares would tremble in fear. I will not tolerate slacking off, disrespect to myself or the source material. I do not believe in using kiddie gloves, because in all my years I have learned _one _thing – you are _never _too young to die."

Artemis waved a hand. I nearly jumped when a trunk appeared out of nowhere. _So she uses wandless magic? That's not something someone does on a whim..._

"I imagine you all think you're perfectly safe. I daresay, some of you might even believe that no one would dare touch you." Her voice, edged with ice, set a chill in the air that was undeniable. This wasn't stuttering Quirrel or nervous Remus Lupin. This was an enigma with power. "You're wrong. Very, very wrong. There are evils, monsters and magic in this world who don't care who you are born too, where you lived or who you are. And unless you claim your agency, your power, your right to live, you will have to say your prayers when you encounter them."

Artemis's steely gaze swept around the room. "And that will begin here. Now tell me, who knows about the Nightmare Curse?"

**End Chapter**

**And cliffhanger because I'm feeling like a troll today. Also, this is not a Game of Thrones crossover, Artemis's last name is just a cameo. Now, meet my defense teacher for this year! How does she fit into this shifted Myth Arc? I'll leave some hints in the upcoming chapters. Don't worry, my first confrontation with Voldemort will come before this school year is over...I hope to surprise you in how it happens.**

**Read and Review please!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Given**

**Wanda: (standing in the middle of a deep, smoking crater; leaning heavily on a sword and looking as if the whole life had been spent fighting.)**

**Tyene: (examines the place warily) Did we kill it?**

**Wanda: (sighs and collapses) God, I hope so.**

**Tyene: Fucking writer's block and plot bunnies - they're always so resilient.**

**Wanda: Ideas are hard to kill. They're the most resiliant parasites the world knows.**

**Tyene: And now you're quoting Inception. Tell you what, you go and watch it and I'll deal with the chapter. JK Rowling still owns Harry Potter as last I checked.**

**Chapter 15: What Do You Fear?**

"A curse placed on the mind will play on the psyche of the victim. The Nightmare, as it's name may imply, places the victim in a comalike state and manifests itself as his or her worst nightmares. To conquer the curse and escape its influence without outside help, you must conquer your fears. It's speculated that the source of the nightmare's power is connected to the Boggart and Dementor lines – some have even gone as far as to suggest that the creator of this curse was born with Dementor magic."

Artemis flicked her wrist, arranging the books and potion containers on her desk. "Obviously this claim is heavily disputed, however the power of the curse itself cannot be denied. By the end of this year, it is my goal that each of you will be able to resist the curse at the least, and escape it at best."

The class shuffled nervously. "This lady doesn't mess around, huh?" Amber murmured uneasily.

I nodded and swallowed. Already I didn't like the look of this lesson.

"For a start, think on your fears." Artemis said. "Today we'll be looking at Boggart theory. Perhaps make a list of them in your book...and consider ways you might confront them."

Everyone did so without saying anything. That was the influence Professor Targaryen had over the classroom in that moment.

I grimaced as I put my pen to paper. _What are my worst fears...? ...Yeah, there's a lesson suitable for first years. She's may be a good teacher, but doing this right out of the gate...! How would I even put this into perspective?_

_hm...maybe I should think of it like its one of those simulators in Dauntless, from the Divergent series...what would my number be...what would I see?_

_...Drowning..._

_...Buried Alive... _

_...Small, enclosed spaces..._

_...Wasps... _

_...Falling from Great Heights..._

_...Freezing to Death..._

_...getting lost in a strange place, unable to find my way home..._

_... ...Dying Alone... ..._

_...What else could I think of...? _

_Being attacked by an enemy, either a death eater or run out of the mill criminal... Voldemort himself, perhaps...being crushed (though that probably falls under claustrophobia)... maybe being ventilated into space...? Gravity certainly scared the shit out of me the first time I saw it..._

_But would all fears manifest as an event? _

_Something physical, that could be dodged, could be outwitted or destroyed? _

_What about fear of other people? Fear of the future? What do I do then? How do I respond? How do I beat it?_

_Think of the Dauntless simulation. When Tris had to pretend to not be divergent. _

_She was afraid of drowning too...she thought up a scarf to choke off the water flow before it got above her head. In Tobais's fear simulation she made the space smaller to stop thinking about how small it really was. When the birds attacked her, she went underwater or swung a burning branch at them._

_Is fear all in my mind? Is that how I fight it? _

_Somehow force myself to stop feeling it, find a way to force it back and free myself?_

I tapped my quill against my textbook, absently wishing that wizards had discovered pens. This was so much messier.

_Then again, boggarts probably act differently from a simulation. With boggarts, it was about making things funny. _

_Great. Just great. How does someone go about making drowning funny? Or being buried alive funny? Or how about freezing to death or being burned alive, how's that supposed to be funny if you aren't a very disturbed individual?_

"_Oh, I'm going to die in a small dark box six feet under! This is a frickin comedy goldmine! Hey, maybe I'll asphyxiate before I dehydrate/starve to death! Won't that be fucking hilarious!?"_

My eyes glazed over as I stared at the pages of my textbook, the words blurring together as I grew more and more lost in thought.

_Okay. Think about the things that you _may _be able to turn funny. Birds...hey, maybe I could turn them all into Big Bird? That ball of yellow feathers is as far from intimidating as you can get. _

_Wasps..._I shuddered convulsively. My phobia of wasps had begun when one flew down my shirt and stung me in the chest when I was eight. _... ...maybe I could turn them into gold nuggets? Oh, but how would that be funny...? ...maybe I could sic them on something else, maybe someone I don't like..._

I imagined Dudley disappearing under a horde of furious golden monsters and smiled slightly. _That might just work...or make everyone think I'm a psychopath. Whatever. That's the best I could think of._

_As for a strange place...I could try to turn it into a fun house. Wait, those can be creepy too. _

I snapped my fingers. _If I get lost, I could just sing "The Yellow Brick Road!" Yeah, that would do it._

"Now, who would like to demonstrate?" Artemis's voice floated from the front, causing my head to snap up.

Tessie, bold as always, immediately put her hand up. I swear our teacher looked impressed for a moment before gesturing for her to come forward.

"What's your name?"

"Tessie Pettigrew." Tessie said confidently, rocking up on her toes as she tried to contain her excitement. I dearly wished I could share her confidence.

"You're brave, Tessie." Artemis smiled slightly. "Marshall all your courage – you're going to need it."

**End Chapter**

**I hope the personal way I discussed a number of my fears (which are consistent with real life, for the most part) makes up for how short this chapter is. I promise, the next one will be extra long to make up for it - the Voldie Plot part of this year will be triggered there. **

**Read and Review please.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Given**

**Wanda: I...I'm so sorry. As much as I try to make Writer's Block's apparent invulnerability funny, it really has been a bit of a problem with this story. I know where I want to go, but this first year is proving to be a bit stubborn. I won't give up, though. Even if it takes more time then I planned, I won't give up.**

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Interlude 1: For In Dreams**

_I'm standing in darkness. I can hear someone talking. It started as one person, but then another joined them, then another, then another, until it was a legion, all speaking in unison, repeating five phrases like a prophecy or a prayer._

_Seven Lives_

_Seven Worlds_

_1 Billion Souls_

_Seven Chances_

_Seven Replacements_

_My head would start to hurt. The darkness would surround me. In the distance, I hear a train whistling. It's getting louder and louder every moment..._

_Seven. Seven. Seven._

For some reason, this was my fear simulation.

Just that handful of phrases, repeated over and over and over until they were burned into my memory.

No, I don't understand it.

It sounds like some kind of fragmented prophecy, which is odd because usually it's Divination that's in charge of those things. I have a sinking feeling that its kind of important.

Anyway, some of the other kids managed to get out of their simulations. Tessie is apparently scared of spiders – hey, that's something she and Ron have in common.

Heather is claustrophobic. Amber is aquaphobic. Lily doesn't like dogs. Atlair arcophobic.

Artemis had to help everyone except Tessie escape their simulations. She was actually pretty nice about it, to my surprise – she said she didn't expect the kids to handle it well the first time, and you had to build up your ability to react under fear and pressure. Then she gave an essay about fear for homework and dismissed us for dinner.

I told my housemates I'd be a bit late and wandered off on my own. I was tired and worried, and I was thinking about the phrases in my 'nightmare'

_Seven is generally considered a magic number...seven lives? Seven worlds?_

Did magic know that I didn't belong here?

I wanted to laugh at the thought – a somewhat hysterical laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. Of course I didn't belong here. My world had been a world without magic, with another family I don't know if I'll ever see again in this life or the next. Why would I understand magic? Magic wasn't real, neither was Harry Potter...

But I had been here for eleven fucking years, eleven years when this world hadn't changed in the slightest. It was definitely real.

Had I been brought here? JK Rowling's books hadn't given any indication that cross – world or dimension magic was a thing.

The theory of the multiverse was beginning to seem more and more likely to me. The theory being that a single decision causes a completely different world and future to take hold, separating it from the original. We had no way of verifying that before, but now that I'm here...and this world is clearly real... that's another obvious possibility.

I feel like I'm an outsider looking in at the world. It's a heavy, unpleasant feeling. I've never felt so alone ever before.

"Hey...excuse me!"

I'm broken out of my thoughts by a new voice. Starting, I turned around to see a girl my age has walked up behind me. She's a pretty oriental with black hair and brown eyes, and her face looks familiar.

It takes me a second to put my finger on it – this must be a young Cho Chang. I had forgotten that this was her first year at Hogwarts.

"Wha? Sorry, what?" I managed through my surprise.

Cho flushed a bit before saying, "Have you seen Altair? Slytherin first year, a bit taller then me, black hair?"

"Uh, no...why?" I asked curiously. I hadn't spoken to Altair since school began – I had a sneaking feeling she was avoiding me whenever we had a class together.

Cho locked her fingers together, a worried look on her face. "Oh, we've been partnered together in Herbology, and Professor Sprout gave us an enchanted Venus Flytrap to look after. I've been meaning to ask her a few things about keeping it fed, but she hasn't come down to dinner and I haven't seen her since this morning. Since you've been out here a while and everyone else is in the great hall, I was wondering if you'd seen her..."

A seed of worry took hold in my chest. I shook my head. "I haven't seen her, sorry. But, hey – I'm not hungry; I could help you look for her if you want."

Cho brightened visibly. "Thank you! That's very nice of you."

"Okay, what places haven't you checked yet? How about the library?"

So the two of us left the hallway together and headed up the stairs. I hadn't thought much about Cho, to be honest – her main function in the book was being a romantic false lead for Harry, and being a grieving mess after loosing Cedric. They didn't really take time to showcase some of her more positive traits, or those unrelated to the boys in her life.

Speaking of Cedric, I met him in Herbology class. He's really friendly and nice; I think he's one of the few students who's making friends in all four houses. I dutifully added 'keep Cedric alive' to my checklist of Stuff I Need To Do.

That list keeps getting longer.

Either way, the two of us made our way up to the library.

**End of Interlude**

**Altair is back. Her predicament is the catalyst for the year (though how, I'm keeping under wraps for the moment). And yes, I finally remembered this is Cho's first year too. (facepalms) This is what happens when you don't go on Pottermore and you forget these little details.**

**Read and Review please**


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